Extemporaneous Parenting
by VeilsofSleep
Summary: "Well aren't we a fine pair? Me, a womanizing assassin with a gaping hole for a heart playing 'daddy dearest' and you, a trauma induced mute with a high IQ, mild Asperger's and the coordination of Mr. Bean and my daughter." Bond would not have believed it, but it was hard to deny that those blue eyes were not his own staring back at him.
1. Chapter 1

**_To hold a pen is to be at war –Voltaire_**

With hands that spilt blood and created discord better than Eris herself could have, James Bond clenched the fancy Cartier pen M had handed him and carefully surveyed the slip of paper before his eyes. Currently he had two cracked ribs courtesy of the local brand of terrorist who was now lying face down in ditch somewhere.

"Bond, are you still listening?" M surveyed her agent with a look of bemusement. In fact, as she had been speaking a medic had been stitching together a rather nasty wound on Bond's arm which was still slowly oozing blood.

_Was he listening?_

**No. No I am not**_**. **_

Bond kept his biting words past the tip of his tongue and deep within his throat. They would do him little good now. Once M was on a tirade like this it would take an international crisis to veer her attention away from the subject of her displeasure, which was currently him and his loose morals apparently. Rather than being congratulated for taking down a human trafficking ring single handed, he was being lectured on one of his indiscretions that had taken place nearly sixteen years ago.

"Whether or not you sign that paper, things will be different," M decided to wrap up her speech since none of it was reaching the ears it was meant for, "That girl is your flesh and blood and though I am well aware you have not a clue what that means, rest assure it is significant enough that I am putting you on probation for the next three months until the situation is sorted."

"Three months?" Bond was already thinking about vacation destinations, M could tell.

"If you're taking responsibility then do it properly. If not, then make sure some else is." It was M's parting advice.

After a second longer of hesitation, Bond signed that single sheet of paper and set the pen that sealed his fate back upon the deep wood of embassy's desk. Now it would no longer ever be just about James Bond, no from now on his name would forever be linked to that of another's.

His name upon that birth certificate tied his very soul to yet another string. Another restraint.

"Very well then," M nodded and James wondered if imagined seeing approval flicker in her eyes for a second, "Report back to me in three months time."

"Ma'am," Bond nodded forlornly as she swept out the room as though she were royalty.

Once his arm was no longer dripping blood all over the fine carpets of the British Embassy in Prague, James pulled on a fresh shirt and suit. As a man involved in intelligence, he rarely saw the fruits of his labour directly. Usually the information he found was funnelled through the large bureaucracy and the glory was given to another. Or, if he assassinated some piece of filth, he never particularly cared about the effects of that death.

Today he got to see all of it firsthand.

It wasn't just his information that took down a human trafficking ring, nor his gun. It was _him._

_He_ found the shipping containers full of half dead women. It was _him _who had assured them they were safe until back up arrived. It was _him_ who had witness their eyes, their eyes that looked more hollow then his.

"Ah, 007, M informed me of your situation." Some grunt whose name James could never remember ushered him into a small corner room, "she hasn't spoke to anyone yet and the medic says she has no immediate life threatening injuries."

_Just many, many hidden ones._

"This is her missing person's report from London and any other information we could find."

With a curt nod at the man, James accepted the file and entered the room and shut the door behind him. If took him a few seconds to locate her. A small and incredibly thin girl with large wide eyes and ragged hair who seemed blend into the tope wallpaper despite her shockingly pale skin studied him carefully. With her lips pressed shut, it was like she was trying to hold back a flood. Bond for a second remembered the tapes he had seen as a boy showing the freed prisoners from Auschwitz after the National Socialists fell; those men and women were the frightening remnants of human cruelty, very much like his daughter was. The girl before him did not look frightened or hysterical; she seemed numb, as though this surreal place she was in was nothing more than a passing hallucination.

This strange, pitiful creature was his daughter.

What could he do but pour himself a drink?

Settled with a large dose of scotch, he flipped open her file. For her part, the girl, apparently named Kendra, sat hunched up as far away from him as was possible. Distrust was as clear as day in her eyes and Bond decided not to make a move yet.

"Kidnapped three years ago..." he skimmed through the pages that made up most of Kendra's life, "Mother dead...High functioning Asperger's?" he surveyed her again carefully before returning to the task at hand, "And, well, well, well you're a genius." It seemed she had graduated high school three years ago upon the eve of her thirteenth birthday. Impressive.

He liked to think that bit came from his. Then again so did the behavioral problems.

"I would offer you a drink but I if I move too close you I have a feeling you'll have no hesitation in scratching my eyes out." Bond had to admit, the way she glared at him was peculiar. Rather like how he glared at himself in the mirror every morning. She nodded slowly, assuring him that she had no faith in as of yet, "In that case there was lovely arm chair outside where I will wait with this bottle scotch. The sooner you come out the more coherent I will be."

Before he could leave her heard a fascinating a sound from behind him. It was a soft bell, quiet but musical and very, very faint, "Who are you?"

"Bond. James Bond." Then he looked at her thoughtfully, "I would have thought that would be obvious by now."

The look of sheer fury on her face made his lips pull around the corners in wry smile.

* * *

**Alrighty folks, this is my spin on the whole 'James Bond's child' genre which seems to have formed. Hopefully its worth reading.  
**

**This story is going to be a series of oneshots depicting the life of James Bond and his daughter. Every chapter will probably be a scene long. Their struggles, together and apart and how somebody like Bond could ever become a somewhat decent parent and caregiver, especially to such an odd and special child. This is meant to be Daniel Craig's Bond.  
**

**Let me know what you think. Rate/review/rant/criticize.  
**

**VeilsofSleep  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Nothing strengthens authority so much as silence_ -Leonardo Da Vinci **

Bond didn't mind silence so much as he relished it.

Silence was all part of his job. It was part of subterfuge, of negotiation and part of torture.

_Tap._

It was basic to his life and career.

_Tap._

His silence was an invaluable quality and made him an effective weapon.

_Tap._

But.

_Tap._

Sitting here now, he had to admit that silence could be awkward.

_Tap._

His flight mate had not uttered a word in over twenty four hours.

_Tap._

"We will be landing in Heathrow Airport in twenty minutes."

The announcement may as well have been his savior.

* * *

**_To sin by silence when they should protest makes cowards of men -_Abraham Lincoln **

It was only after he had and his young ward had settled into the taxi that Bond realized he had no permanent residence, anywhere. The last five years he had simply bounced from hotel to hotel around Europe and did not have a single house or apartment to his name. He could rattle off a list of the best hotels in the city and describe their emergency exits in great detail, but could not name an address where he _lived._

"The Grand please," he ordered deciding that a hotel would suffice until he could locate a reasonable apartment. He would also need a fake name under which to rent this place. It would hardly do to have spies and terrorists dropping by his place. He glanced sideways at his daughter who did not seem surprised or affected, "We'll go apartment hunting tomorrow."

She shrugged.

The only thing James had learned in their short time together was his daughter's name (Kendra Esmeralda Belfort) and that her ultimate goal in life must have been to maintain a strict vow of silence. For in the last day she had not uttered even a grunt. She nodded her head or shook it (vehemently when he suggested that she might buy something other than dark colored pants and tops at the airport) or simply shrugged in indifference.

She was not emotionless, no, she just didn't speak.

Bond did not mind silence, but he thought they had a lot to talk about and so when they entered their two bedroom suite at the Grand Hotel in London, he ordered a bottle of wine and dinner and then settled at the table. Dinner because Kendra was far too thin and wine because he had entirely no idea how to deal with the current situation.

"Come sit." The words were not meant to sound like order, but admittedly that was how they came out. After surveying him for a minute, Kendra decided that she did not like his tone and turned her head away. Apparently being ordered around was an annoying to her as it was to him.

_Mature._

"Please come sit." He tried again and though the tone had not changed, the inclusion of the word 'please' seemed to be enough to stir Kendra over to the delicious meal that was laid out on the table. He ate a few bites, and finished off this first glass, before speaking again, "Kendra, I'm assuming you understand who I am."

A nod.

"Good," that was a relief. It would hopefully make this easier and Bond decided that his usual mixture of straightforwardness and stoicism would suffice, "I now have sole custody of you and I want to know exactly how you ended up in _Prague_ as a _prostitute._"

His blunt words quickly drew an indignant sort of a sound. The sound of progress, Bond reckoned.

Of course he had read the missing persons reports, the obituary for her mother and her psychological evaluation, but still, he wanted to hear it from her.

Gritting her jaw, Kendra glared at him for the better part of two minutes before lifting up her sleeve and holding out her arm as a small shred of evidence of torturous hell she had been through for three years. The deep red and purple marks on her wrist were clearly from prolonged use of handcuffs and Bond knew what a kidnapping was.

"Alright, _forced_ prostitution," he corrected himself lightly, "So after your mother's death and your _graduation from high school_, at the ripe age of thirteen you were kidnapped and ended up as human cargo."

Another nod. The dark look of remembrance on her face made Bond wonder how much fight Kendra had left in her. After seeing the women in that cargo hold, he determined there were two types of people in this world: those who broke and those hardened. Part of him was proud that Kendra was the latter.

"Alright, now we can move on."

The rest of dinner was spent in silence and at least Bond thought it was a slightly more amicable one. That or, he had far too much wine.

* * *

**A great big thanks to everyone who reviewed!  
**

**Short chapter today, but this is how I envision Bond would act. Quiet, stoic and completely blunt, as a blunt instrument should be.  
**

**Enjoy Folks.  
**

**VeilsofSleep  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Skyfall was AMAZING. That is all.  
**

**Of Secrets Part 1:**

Agent James Bond was standing in front of a rather impressive looking apartment building and looked impeccable in a trench and leather gloves. Next to him stood his exact opposite. With her leather jacket and tight slacks, Kendra's only similarity to her father was the rather stony expression on her face as she surveyed the building.

It was residential, upper class and altogether too tame for either of them. But it was typical and normal.

It was _expected._

"Go entertain yourself," Bond waved her off.

She stared back at him stonily.

After a moment he sighed and rummaged through his wallet for a tenner to hand her. Unfortunately all he had were fancy credit cards with ridiculously high limits and a few pence. After a moment's indecision, he handed her a silver coloured piece of plastic. Surveying it carefully, Kendra handed it back and studied his open wallet carefully, her eyes zeroing in on a target.

Bond knew exactly what she had her sights set on. With a loud sigh, he pulled out a shiny black credit card and let her have it.

"Try not to drain my account with any odd expenditure," his dry tone was not appreciated and Kendra rolled her eyes.

Then she turned heel and walked away. Her exit would almost have been classy. Then the illusion was broken and she managed to somehow trip on completely flat pavement and land comically on her behind. The surprise on her face was a rather pleasant change from the constant line her lips were pressed in. Bond decided that any emotion out of her was good. But...

A Bond _did not_ fall. Bonds were graceful and suave.

James made himself turn away, pinching the bridge of his nose.

* * *

It had been oddly peaceful for most of the day and the man with the license to kill was dead bored.

James had secured the rather posh high rise apartment under the name 'George Edwards', a famous British ornithologist. It was a very plain and innocuous name that did not smack of espionage in the least if Bond was comment himself. So in the space of six hours he signed a lease and bought furniture under this name and was now sitting in his brand new Italian arm chair, with his Gucci loafers resting on an antique table from the Cyclades.

Already he was restless. Domesticity was not for him.

Not in the slightest.

Just when he was considering calling his wayward daughter for her whereabouts, his phone started ringing.

"I'm on suspension for the next three months, M."

"You're on leave, not suspension." M's words were quick and James was able to detect a faint trace of amusement in her words. Immediately he sat up a little straighter. What could he have possible done to amuse rather than anger her? "Don't be so dramatic we have a situation."

"Is the world already in peril?"

"Yours is."

"Excuse me?"

"At the moment, someone with your credit card has just placed a large sum of money upon a poker table."

_Well fuck. _

"I see." Bond was not sure how he was supposed to act in this situation. No doubt Kendra was a fair card player. He certainly was, though he wondered if she had natural talent for it, or the brain to count cards.

"I suggest you keep track of your child, 'George'" M was a clever old woman. Always keeping tabs on him.

"Fantastic." Bond cut the line and stared at his freshly furnished apartment. Dialling his daughter's number, he waited as it rang.

Providing a home wouldn't be enough, would it?

"_Hello?_" the voice that answered was not his daughter's. In fact it was not even female.

"Who is this?" Immediately James on the alert and his voice automatically adopted a dangerous edge, "And where is Kendra?"

"_She's a little busy at the moment mate_," the boy, for only a boy could not have heard the anger in Bond's voice, replied boisterously, "_She's won more quid more quickly than any bloke I've ever seen! She broke the last guy's record!_"

"**Give** her the **phone**."

"_Aw mate, she's on a right streak she is, one more straight flush and she'll have more than ten thousand_!"

"**Now.**"

The idiot had the good sense to do as James ordered.

"_What_?" the word was fast and demanding.

"I thought I said no strange expenditures."

"_Well, __**fuck**__._"

"Indeed."

The line went dead. Gritting his jaw, James decided that he would have to have a chat with his daughter. Within the first week of him becoming a father, his ward had already won ten thousand pounds in a game of poker underage and probably at an illegal casino.

He did not have to wait long, because in twenty minutes the door opened and in spilled Kendra, looking as though she had sprinted up the stairs in her haste. Immediately, she collected herself at the sight of her father seated calmly in the living room of her new home.

There were dangerous levels of tension in the air and Kendra's survival instincts kicked in when he glared at her pointedly.

They studied each other, weighing the heavy fog in the air. It was as though he was looking at her for the first time. With her wide eyes and thin face, Kendra looked vulnerable and small and very, very fragile. Emotions flitted microscopically over the Bond's face, ranging from shock and realization then slipped back into a cool, neutral mask. "You look pale."

Gritting her teeth, Kendra settled on the couch opposite from her father and nodded in greeting. Unfortunately as she was setting her messenger back down, the contents of it spilled out and onto the carpet.

Said contents seemed to be composed of thousands of pounds, an assortment of poker chips, lip balm and a small caliber gun.

"Lovely." he toasted to Kendra, who was proving to be a true Bond indeed.

"Rather like this apartment, Mr. Edwards," she retorted quietly, staring right into his eyes without remorse or guilt.

Both father and daughter just stilled, staring at each, waiting each other out for a response. Standing up, James set his scotch down and grabbed his keys. In effect, he refused to play entirely. It was not worth mention the number of times Bond gambled with his life and would probably gladly do it again. However for the first time in his life, James found the gamble was heavier then it was worth. There were no cards for him leave on the table. There were too many secrets that might spill from his mouth if he spoke.

Before he left, James uttered his first words of fatherly advice, "Innocence is about not being caught."

The door slammed shut. Not in anger or disappointment, just finality.

The minute he was gone, Kendra let her bag drop back to the ground, its contents slipping back to the ground haphazardly. As soon as she was alone, the empty mask dropped. Having seen the monsters that go bump in the night on her own, Kendra decided the only way to retaliate was to defend. Rummaging through her bag, she found the Walther she had recently purchased and sat hunched up against the sofa.

No tears came to her eyes, but she didn't need to close them to see nightmares.

_Every act of rebellion expresses a nostalgia for innocence and an appeal to the essence of being –_Albert Camus

* * *

Twenty minutes later Bond found himself at the 'gaming hell' where Kendra had broken his record and was ready to win back his title.

"Can I get you a cocktail?" a waitress with a rather charming smile asked him politely as a dealer doled out cards.

"Vodka Martini."

TO BE CONTINUED

* * *

Two-parter chapter. Second part should be up in a few days!

**Shout outs to reviews:**

Jenna -Good question, I honestly had no idea but after seeing Skyfall, I have decided to place this after Quantum of Solace. I've already got a strategy for including Kendra into Skyfall, if this fic ever gets there.

icyflame12 -Here you go!

Beth -Thanks! I'm so glad you enjoyed it.

Gleefullbabe -hopefully this chapter is good. Thank so much, I found a few errors in it so I was worried, but I'm glad you enjoyed it!

Pine-sized she-bear -Thanks for reviews! You just gave me an amazing complement and I'm going to take a moment to appreciate it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Shout outs at the end. Thank you for reviewing, alerting and favoriting! **

**Of Secrets: Part 2**

When Kendra woke up, it was not due to birds chirping outside her window, or because sunlight was blinding her in her sleep. It was because of the painful as all hell crick in her neck. As fancy as the sofa looked, it was _not_ an appropriate place to sleep in. Rubbing her eyes, Kendra sat up and carefully surveyed her surroundings.

She still wasn't a hundred percent used to walking up and not being in some sort of pain and it took her mind a second or two to process exactly where she was and what was happening. Glancing in the window at her reflection, Kendra was somewhat sorry to say that she looked like a ghoul, with her hair standing in a lopsided fashion and her eyeliner smudged.

Two things then became immediately apparent:

Firstly, someone, probably her father, had neatly stacked her poker winnings on the coffee table, which for some reason annoyed her.

Secondly, her shiny new Walther was missing and the culprit appeared before her, placing a no doubt outrageously expensive tie into place. That gun was her security blanket, and this man had all but snatched it away without a second thought.

"You're awake, lovely." Bond stepped out of his bedroom looking as dapper as ever, with ever hair in place. The only sign at all that he had a late night were the small bags under eyes. Her knee jerk reaction was to throw something at him for looking so perfect despite the ungodly hour, but Kendra resisted for the moment and instead fixed him with a pointed glare, "I'm off to work. There are owls that need sorting out downtown."

Smug bastard.

"_My Walther_."

"Try not to break anything." Ignoring her completely, James strode out, shutting the door behind him.

Tossing a conveniently located paperweight at the door where his head had been a moment earlier, Kendra stared at the dent in the wood with full set fury.

This was war now.

* * *

"Bond," M appeared beside him as he fired shots at a dummy.

Just because he had no cases, did not mean Bond stilled. No, he still arrived at headquarters and snooped about the office, inserting himself in discussions he didn't belong in or generally being a nuisance. M was starting to get the feeling that he would not simply sit twiddling his thumbs for the next three months and probably drive her insane along with himself.

"M," he fired another shot without looking at her. After being snubbed by a few office grunts, Bond found refuge in the practice room and was currently showing off his qualities as a marksmen.

"Someone's been snooping into one of your credit card accounts," she had a file in her hands, "Apparently this person has high level computer skills because she was able to trace the location of account payments."

Bond didn't answer.

"She's good, Bond, and she'll figure it out."

He knew she would. She was a Bond after all and he was holding far too many secrets from her.

* * *

_Nature, keeping only useless secrets, had placed within reach and in sight of human beings the things it was entirely necessary for them to know –_Michel Foucault

Tapping her father's credit card against the wood of the table, Kendra surveyed the results of her search into her newfound father's life, which was both physical and cyber. The credit card she was holding was not a normal one. No ordinary ornithologist would have such a thing. In fact no ordinary ornithologist would rent an apartment with a false name.

_George Edwards._

A crappy cover if she were to comment.

The man had stated something righteous about innocence and like any daughter Kendra was motivated to prove him wrong.

Her physical search of the house yielded some interesting results in the form of weapons and ammunition. There was a Walther (hers) hidden under a loose floorboard, a second under her father's pillow, a Sig Sauer tapped to the inside of the fire place and a Glock hidden strategically in a bookshelf. Not to mention the flash grenade in the desk drawer. Most mysterious.

Her cyber search seemed to increase the number of queries she had for her father. Firstly tracking the banking information had been hard enough, far too difficult for any ordinary account holder; eventually Kendra had resorted to some less than legal keystrokes to access it. The credit card was under his name (Bond not Edwards), but was not attached to any of his official accounts. The payments were made promptly and by a rather mysterious source: The British Government, more specifically the treasury.

Once again, no ordinary ornithologist would his rather expensive life funded by the government for no reason.

It was time to up the ante, Kendra decided. She had one last poker chip to play and it was a particularly impressive one. In a matter of hours she set her play in motion.

It was another hour when James finally strode in, loosening his tie as he went. Despite being on leave, Bond was still required to show his face in the office like a good boy. And he certainly made them pay for that one; he made sure to be as overly annoying as possible for the day. However that meant Kendra was almost entirely alone during the day and James dutifully ignored the twinge he felt when she watched him leave with her wide eyes. Admittedly stealing her gun had been low, but he felt it was a rather 'father-like' thing to do.

Now he was wondering exactly what she would do in retaliation, for surely Kendra Belfort would not let this insult go unpunished.

Bond stopped in his motions when he spotted his secret stash of arms laid out on the kitchen table as though they were ceramic cat figurines on a window sill.

"I certainly hope you cleaned up after snooping." Oddly enough he looked proud and a trite amused. It was rather impressive that she was putting things together so quickly.

"Remind me, from what dinosaur group is it theorized that birds evolved from?" Her eyes flashed oddly as she glanced at the weapons on the table before her gaze turned to him, "you should know that, right George?"

He had to smile. No doubt she knew more about ornithology then he did and unlike him, probably knew the answer to that question.

"I'm rather certain you already know."

"And I'm fairly assured that you give not a single shit about birds."

"Clever girl," he sent her another mocking smile. As he approached the side of the table, he caught sight of her hand, which was wrapped up in a dishtowel that seemed lightly stained with red, "Dare I ask?"

"Broken glass." She turned her head away from him as he carefully unwrapped her crude bandage. The wound wasn't terribly deep, but look liked it would require at least one stitch, given by the amount of blood. However, Bond seriously doubted she would tolerate a visit to the local doctor.

Not that he knew where one might possibly be.

With yet another sigh, Bond retrieved some medical supplies from the kitchen cabinet. In a few minutes he had her hand cleaned and bandaged. Given the fact that she glared at him in a deadly fashion when he opened the suture kid, James opted to skip the stitches for now.

Then he just waited.

"What?" she asked after a few moments.

"I was expecting some sort of bombardment upon my entry," he explained carefully and gestured to the weapons lying on the table.

"I'm waiting." She was staring at her computer screen intently and Bond suddenly got a very bad feeling in his stomach.

The computer let out some sort of beep of confirmation and Kendra scrolled through something before speaking; "007." James narrowed his eyes, "MI6 agent extraordinaire with 26 kills-"

As if on cue, Bond's phone started ringing.

"_James, someone's hacked our system."_

"M-"

"_They're looking at your file as we speak."_

"M."

"_We back tracking their network through Colombia, Brazil, Spain, Russia, South Africa, England-"_

"M!" finally he heard silence on the other end, "Its _fine_."

A beat of silence followed where the Director of MI6 understood the gravity of the situation which was humourlessly nothing more than a territorial dispute between a father and daughter duo that would ultimately give her ulcers.

"_Damn it Bond!" _M sounded most insulted, "_She hijacked the university's super computer and servers in order to hack us!"_

"Yes M, I gathered that she did not simply hack MI6 using a _macbook_."

"_Bond, I thought we discussed this. She is your responsibility. CONTROL her."_

With that the line went dead. No doubt the minions in MI6 were currently scurrying around in order to fix this rather large and gaping security breach. It was a fine mess.

"Well I hope we're even." Bond sighed and pulled his tie off in one smooth motion. Though she did not look outwardly triumphant, there was a definite straightening of Kendra's shoulders, as though she were perhaps prouder of herself. Of course her pride unfortunately came at the price of MI6 security and national safety, "I suppose I should let you have this, though we'd best take you to a gun range for practice."

He slid the Walther across the table towards her.

"Yes." She looked at the gun as though weighing her need for it. At the moment, Kendra still felt like this gun was important to her survival, but if nothing else, she didn't feel like she needed to carry it around, at least when she was around Bond.

"Alright, what say you to Italian for dinner?"

"Fine." She paused for a moment, "Theropods evolved into modern birds."

"I'll be sure to remember that."

* * *

**SHOUT OUTS:**

Hope and Love -I'm glad you're deciding to read this fic. My intent was take something that's a little bit cliche and try to make a little bit more original. I hope it lives up. Thank you!

fan-de-carlisle-cullen -Yeah, I could definitely see him doing it too :)

Jay- Yes! Main goal with that last part was to win a laugh. I totally threw it in last minute cause I laughed when I thought about it.

The Dangerous One I'm going to let you guess on that. Honestly I don't know if James did win his record back or not ;)

Pint-sized-bear -maybe yes, maybe me ;)

Jenna -Thanks, that's one of the greatest compliments I could have gotten. Thanks for reading!

ConfusedSoAmI- Here's an update! You're input is awesome, I'm so glad that Kendra is actually believable. That was my main concern, but I feel way better about it now.

Disney-Princess-in-Disguise -Thank you! I hope this chapter lives up. PS -I love your pen name.

G.A. Clive -thank you so much! That was my intent with writing this story. I'm hoping to make it seem not quite as cliche and keep everyone as in character as possible.

A/N- God, my schedule of a few days for each chapter certainly fell through. It's finals in a week and a half, so updates will probably be slow guys. I'm so sorry! I really like writing this story and wish I had more time to dedicate to it, but unfortunately school gets the priority. Hopefully I'll have something up before Christmas and hopefully it will be Christmas themed as well...we shall see.

Happy Studying everyone!

VeilsofSleep

PS -I have tumblr now apparently. It the same as my pen name. I'm still trying to understand the whole blog business, hopefully I'll start posting short stories and what not on there.


	5. Chapter 5

**Holy crap, you guys are awesome! Shouts at the end!**

* * *

_**Even if she not be harmed, her heart may fail her in so much and so many horrors; and hereafter she may suffer-both in waking, from her nerves, and in sleep, from her dreams.**_**-Bram Stoker, Dracula**

Though Kendra had yet to actually fire her gun, Bond reckoned she was an expert at cleaning it.

It was nearly three in the morning. Settled across from his pajama clad daughter, James sipped scotch. It was remarkable how quickly he seemed to be going through his decanter. Less than twenty five minutes ago, he had been peacefully asleep. Now he was sitting here running out of alcohol and gun cleaner.

A shrill and abrupt scream had awoken him rather jarringly from his peaceful slumber.

With guns blazing, he burst into the bedroom next to his only to realize that the screaming was not because a banshee had slipped into his apartment and was dying, but because his daughter was invariably suffering from some sort of mental aftermath of her experiences in Prague amongst pimps and human smugglers. She would not reveal contents or the subject of her nightmare, but James could guess.

So now he sat at the kitchen table while Kendra took apart her Walther and cleaned it for the fifth time in half an hour. It was a coping mechanism; rationally she was well aware of that. Irrationally, she knew the longer she cleaned her gun, the longer she could avoid sleeping and at the moment that seemed like a very good idea.

"You will, _eventually_, need to see a trained mental health professional of some sort."

Those words earned him yet another scowl. The worst part: James was actually serious. The stages of post traumatic stress were not pleasant, he knew that first hand.

He waited another half an hour, hoping that perhaps something intelligent would come to mind and when it didn't he went to bed, leaving Kendra alone with her thoughts and her gun cleaner. Just as he did once, she hoped the combination of the two would be enough to fix her. Though just like him, she knew it probably would not.

* * *

Nobody really questioned 007 as he strode into MI6 headquarters. It was hardly an abnormal sight. However, it was rather odd that a teenage girl followed behind him, looking like a dark haired wraith. Anyone who sent her too critical of a stare received a glare in return, both from Senior and Junior Bond. Of course the glarer would turn away with the most wounded of expressions. It was unnerving.

They moved un-accosted through the elevator and went up two floors. A short trip down the hallway led them to the gun range. There was another man and Bond sent the blonde a subtle nod of recognition.

"006." James greeted stiffly.

"007." The man nodded in return, surveying the pair of them carefully. Of course Alec Trevelyn had heard the rumours, but seeing the Bond family in the flesh was something else altogether. Despite looking and acting rather different, there was something inherently similar about the girl and Bond.

Once Kendra and James were both equipped with ear muffs, James calmly handed his daughter her Walther and stood back.

Immediately he could see the flaws in her posture and her grip, but Bond said nothing. From the corner of his eye, Trevelyn was watching as well, with mild interest. Half of being a superb marksman was slipping into the correct stance, very much like a lion on a hunt and based on instinct. It was a lesson learned only with experience. Instruction did little to help a student understand the feel of the gun and the weight of metal and powder. Gritting her jaw and tensing her shoulder, Kendra fired once and recoiled slightly as the bullet left the barrel.

There was a beat of silence as Kendra glared at the target.

"At least you kept both your eyes open." It was the only positive comment James could offer and sounded far more sarcastic then he had meant it to. Glowering at the paper target that stood twenty feet away, Kendra found that her bullet had not even landed on the target.

It had been her balance. As soon as she pulled the trigger, Kendra could tell her balance was off, which was why she recoiled from the discharge and why her aim was so damningly bad. Even with ear muffs on, the shot had seemed far too loud.

"Don't stiffen your shoulders before firing," Alec commented conversationally and earned himself a short glare from James.

"Again." Bond's order came quickly.

With a deep breath, Kendra raised her gun again, this time allowing more weight to land on her back foot. Biting the inside of her lip, she clenched her finger against the trigger. This time the bang did not catch her as unawares. James offered her a single nod of approval while 006, Alec, had a wry smile on his face.

As they continued, her aim got steadily better. It took four more shots for Kendra to land a hit on the target. It was wide and just caught the shoulder, but was far better than before. Grudgingly, Bond had to admit that her posture had improved somewhat and that in case of an attack, Kendra may even prove to be dangerous.

"Bond, what in the hell is going on?" a rather indignant voice from behind him caught James' attention. Looking disgruntled and harassed, M narrowed her eyes, "This is MI6 headquarters!"

"Kendra, meet M." Bond had a wry smile on his face. This would be good.

"Your boss." That was not a question. It seemed Kendra had seen quite a bit when she broke into MI6's main frame a few days ago. A subtle downward tilt of his chin was Bond's answer. The woman watched the exchange with grudging interest.

The Bonds' had a pension for being annoyingly silent.

And for being completely unreadable in terms of body language. For example, M could not tell if Kendra approved or disapproved of her. Never one for being scrutinized, she decided this situation was quickly growing irksome.

"Indeed," M replied with her nostrils flaring, "Ms. Belfort, perhaps its best you and I have a discussion on national security and the purpose of firewalls. Please wait outside for a moment."

Feeling somewhat amicable (for she was rather impressed with her beginner's lesson in armed combat), Kendra exited the room without complaint. In fact, she hardly looked at either of them as she left, but did send her father a subtle, barely noticeable nod. Once she gone, M turned on her agent.

"What are you thinking, dragging her here?" M did not feel she would lower herself by pointing out that this was the _top secret_ headquarters of a very unique branch of the military. It should have been plainly obvious, but apparently 007 thought it was perfectly reasonable to bring in civilians.

"She needed a lesson in marksmanship."

"She's _sixteen_!"

"If I may-"

"No, you may not, 006," M rounded upon the other double-o who was also wasting precious government time and also tended to be a pain in her arse, "Aren't you supposed to be on a plane to Eastern Europe?"

With a glance at his watch, Alec's mouth turned upward into the curve of a smirk; "Indeed I am." With a nod, Alec exited the room looking rather amused. In truth he would much stay and watch Bond fumble around with his daughter.

"Bond, in future, do not bring _civilians_ to _MI6_ headquarters." M glanced at James and then felt the need to add, "Perhaps it would be best if Ms. Belfort occupied her time and intelligence to more appropriate pursuits."

As it turned out, M did have some tact and kept her lecture for Kendra to a minimum. In essence she highlighted the dubious legality of Kendra's actions and that another such incident would end with her being formally charged and tried within a court of law. Once again, Kendra was oddly amicable and nodded politely in response. Though it had been to hack MI6, Kendra certainly acknowledged that it had been illegal and was more than capable of understanding right from wrong. The difference was, Kendra would always do what she felt was necessary and M seemed to be able to read that much from the girl.

"You are intelligent," M stated the obvious, "It's not my place, but I would recommend you put your talent towards something constructive and legal."

Once they escaped M's office and spilled into London's busy streets, Kendra spoke.

"Thanks." The word was quiet and monotone. A stranger would have mistaken it as false and insincere, but James understood that it was somehow significant. Something between them felt slightly less tense, it was though something clicked into place the minute she fired that gun for the first time. The irony of that was not lost on Bond.

"You're welcome." He returned in the same brusque tone.

**_All truly great thoughts are conceived while walking -_Albert Camus**

* * *

**SHOUT OUTS:  
**

**ConfusedsoAmI** -Kendra is sixteen :)**  
**

**Guest/HurricaneGirl** -Thank you so much for review, especially since ff was being a bum. I'm really happy that you think this good. My ultimate goal was make this particular cliche better. Thanks!

**Ohhotdam** -Thanks!

**Kaya Roo** -Thanks, here's an update!

**Unquestionably Unhinged** -Wow thank you!

**Standtallandskyfall13** -I would, but my only issue is that Kendra is sixteen and I put Ben Whishaw's Q at an age of at least twenty five...But he will be in the story and he will be Kendra's buddy!

**The Dangerous One -**Yeah, originally I left just as is, with the macbook and all, but the realistic side of my brain said 'NO', so I changed it...Q and Kendra will be buds for sure!

**Icyflame12 **-I'm so glad you like!

**PeaceandCupcakes -**YAY thank you! I read back at old chapters for inspiration sometimes and I cringe every time I find a mistake. I'm glad the grammar is good, that's always a concern of mine. I'm glad you like fic, I really enjoy the whole child business, but you're right, it often detracts from the hero. I'm really glad that this is turning out alright.

**fan-de-carlisle-cullen **-Yep! Bond and Kendra do share a large portion of genes

**Jenna** -Thanks! I always feel guilty when I neglect to update. For example I have two stories on the back burner which have not been updated in a long while and it stabs at my heart every time I log on. Anywho, thank you for your patience!

**House** **Ever** -Here you are!

**Guest**- So glad you liked it!

**A/N: **Alright folks, new update! I'm surprised as you are, trust me. This one just sort spilled out of my brain onto Word a few nights ago. I should be studying. God I should be studying. I've also gotten started on the Christmas one.

Finally, there is a reference to Alec Trevelyn in this fic. Daniel Craig is my favorite bond, but I grew up with Pierce Brosnan's Bond and so he has a special place in my heart and I rather enjoyed Sean Bean as Alec. If he cameos again, it will be as a dubious good guy rather than a villain, so let me know what you think!

VeilsofSleep


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Looking rather unimpressed, Kendra was settled rigidly upon a strange leather couch.

Every time she shifted, it squeaked unorthodoxly and she would flinch.

It was a rather horrid couch. With solid wood legs and mahogany accents, the frame of the couch was decidedly old. Old like the French couch in her living room at home. However, the upholstery was crisp and modern. The couch just could not seem to decide whether it wanted to accept its age, or be acclimated to modern times.

It was very much like the lanky man that sat across from her. With typical, black oblong frames that the twenty-somethings were running around in, the man attempted to hide his thinning hair part and wear the fancy brand names of today while desperately clinging to his pen and clipboard of old, the artifacts of a decade past.

This was the therapist her father had chosen. In truth, chosen was a rather strong word, more like he opened the phone book and shot a dart at it.

"Are you uncomfortable?"

**Very. I'm horridly, terribly discomfited by that incredibly strange painting above your head that features a woman who looks like part man and part goat. It reminds me of a woman in Prague who was later killed by a disgruntled client who apparently didn't like the way she...**

****Kendra gritted her jaw under this man's scrutiny.

**Yes. I hate your sweater vest and greatly dislike the psychology texts on your desk that say I'm crazy. Yes. I am uncomfortable.**

She shrugged.

Indifference was easier. It lowered everyone's expectations.

Casually, he noted it and how tightly her fists were balled up against her sides.

"Tell me, how are you and your father adjusting to one another?"

The largely rational part of Kendra's mind suggested that perhaps explaining the assassin-of-MI6 situation would not be a good idea. Neither would mentioning her sojourn to the gun range at MI6.

Or her gambling ability.

"Fine."

By the time the clock chimed an hour, Kendra was quite ready to trample out of the office and spend a good long while not interacting with humanity. Though his questions were idiotically simple to answer and though she knew that he generally had an idea of the inner tirade in her mind, Kendra refused to budge an inch and eventually he became pushier with pointed questions. Eventually she gritted her teeth and refused to speak and all he did was watch her. When she stomped out of the office, looking bitterly annoyed if I might add, James was waiting for her in the lobby. With a raised eyebrow, he noted her face and her clenched fist.

"Kendra, would you please sit while I speak with your father?" the therapist attempted to establish more familiarity then Kendra cared for. Not bothering to hide her disdain, Kendra simply slumped against the wall in the hallway, refusing to sit while James strode into the man's office.

"Mr. Edwards," he shook Bond's hand before settling behind his impressive desk and watched with scrutiny. James nodded stiffly. He never did like men who that though they could read him.

"I have an appointment in an hour," James quickly offered up a lie that could serve as his escape from this meeting if it ran longer than his liking.

"Then I'll get to it," the man nodded and crossed his hands, "I think your daughter is holding back many secrets. Secrets which I can hardly imagine she will part with. For this, for therapy, to be even the slightest bit effective, a patient must be willing and open with all parts of themselves."

"I see." James looked at the man thoughtfully for a second.

He had a point. Shocking yes, but true; Kendra could not and would not trust this man with her secrets and without that neither she nor her therapist could begin to work through, understand and move past the horror she had faced. The 'secrets' that the man mentioned, well some of them were untellable. They were top secret, and they were mostly about him. It was unfair to expect Kendra to speak with a stranger about her feelings when there were things he himself would discourage from sharing.

"In that case, I suppose this will be our last meeting."

_Taking crazy things seriously is a serious waste of time –_Haruki Murakami

* * *

"You won't have to see him again."

Kendra looked up at her father suspiciously and with a bit of hope. They were seated in a rather fancy restaurant. Between ordering wine and duck, James had glanced casually around the room and uttered the first words they had exchanged all day. Slowly she nodded, feeling a large portion of her stress slumping away.

They were silent for a second while Kendra relished the idea of being allowed her privacy.

It meant a great deal and she was starting to reevaluate her initial judgement of James Bond as merely another character in her life and more of a human. With furtive glance at him while he was absorbed in his menu, she wondered if he perhaps understood her slightly better than she had given him credit for.

"_This is one race of people for whom psychoanalysis is of no use whatsoever,_" Kendra mused looking far more at ease, with her lips almost upturned into the smallest hint of a smile.

A joke. Not just an ordinary joke, but a rather intelligent one. Quoting Sigmund Freud was no small feat.

With utter surprise, James let a clever little smile appear on his own face; "No, it is not because your mother was Irish."

It wasn't so much that he understood and acknowledged her humor, it was the fact that he remembered at all.

* * *

Shouts Outs:

**Lisistrataantigonia- **Thank you so much!

**ConfettiRiot- **Here you go! I hope you enjoy!

**fan-de-carlisle-cullen -**OMG a bond pun. I waiting for it! You have made my day.

**The Dangerous One** -Thanks

**PeaceandCupcakes** -So in my head, Q is at least twenty five and since Kendra is only sixteen, I'm thinking them as a couple will be far too weird. I was going to go for more of a mentorship type deal.

**ConfusedsoamI** -Aw you must go and watch at least the Pierce Brosnan ones, at least Die Another Day. It was good :). I'm glad you like it so far.

**Kaya Roo **-Thanks, I hope you like it!

A/N -So my last update until around Christmas. Don't worry, there be a Bond Christmas. This was mostly because I felt the last chapter needed a little bit more explanation. Sorry its a little bit shorter than normal. It was all I had time for.

As always, you guys are awesome!

VeilsofSleep.


	7. Chapter 7

_****__Shout outs at the end. IMPORTANT Author's Note about **Q ** at the end._

* * *

_**Taking pleasure in the fragrant brilliance of the Christmas Tree -**_**T.S. Elliot **

It was late morning when the door bell rang and since Kendra was the only one home, she was very hesitant about opening the door. Off doing spy-like things no doubt, Bond had disappeared early, before the sun even came up and today Kendra did not feel the urge to run off and cause some sort of catastrophe. Instead, she was cozily settled on that French couch (she was becoming mildly attached to it) with her lap top. Her attempt had been to discover if any universities in town were accepting new students, but in truth she had been dozing. Sleep was still a hard thing to come by with nightmares.

After a few seconds of thought, she glanced through the peep hole.

There was nothing but a plain, brown box.

Most mysterious.

Leaving the door chained, she opened it a crack and glanced into the hallway to find it completely empty. With a breath, she pulled open the door, quickly pushed the box inside and then slammed the door shut again.

Her visual examination of the box left her with a very unsatisfying description: plain and brown with no postage marks or identifying features. Cutting away the twine and wrappings, Kendra pulled open one flap of the box and peeked inside.

"No _way._" she whispered staring almost reverently.

The contents elicited nothing but wonderment.

To the average eye it would have seemed like nothing more impressive then Christmas ornaments and a few photo albums, but Kendra only needed to open the cover of one of the photo albums to know it was much more than that. These were her mother's Christmas things, perhaps the only things that were left. Despite being religiously ambiguous, Kendra's mother had devoutly celebrated Christmas.

Though Kendra quickly out grew some of the quirkier things her mother did in preparation for St. Nick (in whom she stopped believing at the incredibly adult age of five) and though she did not particularly care for carols, eggnog or turkey, her mother still performed the sacred ritual of putting up a small tree. For much of her life, Kendra had treated that tree as an annoyance and now panged for it. Christmas had been her mother's way of celebrating life and all the good thing in it and for some reason, Kendra needed that assurance that there was good in the world.

Noticing a single page that lay crumpled with the wrappings, Kendra snatched it up and quickly scanned the neatly typed font:

_What remains of your mother's personal effects._

_I apologize that it did not reach sooner._

A fancy, cursive M was scrawled at the bottom and Kendra decided that she was correct in her initial impression that M was a mostly good person. A little stern perhaps and a little self righteous, but good.

Glancing at her phone, Kendra realized how late the package was.

_December 24__th__._

That did not leave much time.

* * *

It well past six when Bond finally strode the door of his apartment and only because his favorite bars and restaurants were closed due to the ridiculous Christmas air that seemed to have descended upon the city. Most of the Christmas's he remembered either took place in a foreign country while he was being shot at, or at an orphanage where he had one year received a broken arm from a bully on Christmas day. And that had been one of the better holiday's at the orphanage.

The possible happy ones he preferred not to remember.

In short, Bond preferred to spend his Christmas in a place that did not believe in he holiday.

Unfortunately his three months of 'leave' prevented him from spending the chill of December next to a pretty barmaid in some Caribbean country.

So armed with a box of warm take out, he arrived home, hoping for a quiet evening. He loathed the stuff, but there really was no other choice; from what he understood, feeding one's child was an essential part of parenting and currently the only edible thing in his fridge was a half eaten burrito which Kendra had purchased herself a few days ago.

Stopping halfway through the threshold, Bond raised an eyebrow.

There were _twinkle lights_ strewn about his apartment and figurines of Charlie Brown, Snoopy and oddly enough what looked to be the man from Pablo Picasso's 'Scream' in a Santa hat on the mantle. But, the _piece de resistance_ was the tree. It was a rather spindly looking thing, no larger than his forearm and sat in a corner of the room with a single, large red ornament upon the very top. The large ornament actually seemed to be tilting the thin tree so it looked somewhat drooped.

**The hell?**

"What happened here?"

Kendra shrugged and turned back to her lap top as though nothing was amiss.

"We are going to discuss _this_." Bond curtly tilted his head at the pathetically offending evergreen. Setting their dinner upon a counter in the kitchen, Bond came across the box and the note. Of course M would meddle. With a sigh, he perused the photo album that Kendra had left on the counter.

It featured pictures of Kendra, and a woman whose face James remarkably enough remembered fairly well. Though Serena Belfort looked happy in ever photo, Bond judged by the pictures that Kendra had hated the holiday as much as he did. So of course, he failed to understand exactly why his living room looked like Charlie Brown's Christmas.

Wryly he remembered where all this had started. The dark haired woman had been the sharpest dresser at the fanciest art gallery in Taiwan where a large exhibition was featuring several of her paintings. At the time, Bond was supposed to have been tailing some crooked diplomat or the other, but had ended then night with a rather large amount of vodka and Serena.

Who knew that sixteen years later he would have to put up with her quirk for Christmas?

For whatever reason, Kendra felt like putting up a Christmas tree despite disliking the holiday and James concluded it probably out of necessity. This was her first real Christmas in three years and it probably spurned from a need to be somewhat 'normal', though Bond doubted that the pathetic attempt at holiday cheer in his living room counted as 'normal'.

Still he decided not to insist upon removal of the ornaments and the evergreen immediately.

Settling on his armchair, Bond appraised the tree again; "Rather minimalist."

Kendra shrugged; "So are we."

* * *

By the next evening all the Christmas decor was put away and James reckoned that Kendra could not stand it more than he could; sometimes renderings of happy memories were almost as painful as horrid ones. Christmas day had been quiet for them; they had no gifts to exchange, and were not particularly religious, so the Bonds made their peace by breaking bread together in the form of baguettes with fine cheese. James drank scotch and Kendra made her preference for a nice long island ice tea known.

It was oddly soothing.

There were no gun battles and twice James considered taking her for another sojourn to the shooting range just so he could escape the apartment for a while just to escape the mind numbing boredom, but resisted the urge. Instead he wandered around the apartment, feeling the need to familiarize himself with all the things he had put in it, things that he had not bothered to investigate. These were things that made a home, but in this apartment it looked more like a catalog page.

There were no personal touches, no pictures, no clutter and no suggestion that two people lived there at all. It was the way he preferred it. It was secure and vague, everything that he needed to be for a living.

Still, he did not comment when a picture of Kendra and her mother appeared upon the mantle of the fire place a few days later. It was in a plain frame and was small, unobtrusive and featured the two dressed up rather prettily for some event. The similarity between mother and daughter was highlighted by their matching smirks. With a heavy sigh James had stared at that picture long hard, trying to discern how the mostly joyous looking Kendra had been reverted to his quiet and sombre one. He very much doubted there was any way to revive the girl in this picture.

Then when Kendra strolled out of her room, humming absent mindedly with a look somewhere between half asleep and barely awake, Bond decided that the Kendra he knew was far more preferable in every regard. Unlike the fragile girl in the photo, this Kendra, _his_ Kendra, was stronger and smarter and no doubt far more sarcastic.

In fact, she was probably more like him now then her mother.

There was nothing wrong with her, nothing he would change.

"Do I detect the melody of ABBA?"

The humming abruptly stopped and Kendra flashed him a glare that looked all too familiar; "Shut up."

* * *

SHOUT OUTS:

**Margret:** Thank you! Here you go!

**ConfusedsoamI:** Thank you again! I hope you like this one!

**AiHart:** Aw thanks!

**TrinityCrystalPrincess89:** Yeah, I know it's possible for Q and Kendra to be together, but I'm just not sure I can buy into them as a couple. Nor do I think I could write it too well. But, a lot of people seem to want that pairing, so who knows right? Anyway thank you for your feedback, I really appreciate hearing what you think. Let me know your thoughts on the matter!

**PeaceandCupcakes: **Actually I'm really glad you brought it up. It seems a lot of people are shipping Q and Kendra. Thanks for your feedback!

**Giulia: **Wow you bring up a very good point! Who Kendra opens up to was not something I had really thought about yet, but you're right: it seems very harsh to make Bond go through that. I don't think it would benefit either of them, or at least if it did, it would have been to written just right...Thank you , you've got me thinking now ;)

**LilyLunaPotter142: **Thank you so much! My goal was to make their relationship believable.

**fan-de-carlisle-cullen:** right you are! But I decided to take a little bit of artistic license with this one. I figured MI6 therapists for MI6 employees and agents. Furthermore if Kendra went to an MI6 therapist, then she would have a file _with_ MI6 and Bond does not Kendra to be linked to MI6 in that way. I'm going to explain that aspect of the story in later chapters, don't you worry!

**The Dangerous One: **Haha, now I feel like the real Bond Christmas is going to be a let down...No poker chips or guns...just pure fluff and character interaction. That'll be new year ;)

Alright, **SUPER IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE** regarding **Q**:

Now that I have your attention, Ahem.

So there's a lot of love for Q and Kendra to be a couple from what I understand. Admittedly, I rather loved Q in Skyfall. However, as far as this story is concerned, I did not think they would be a suitable couple. Firstly there is a rather large age difference. I know sixteen is the age of consent in England so it's not impossible, but Kendra is socially three years behind thanks to her experiences in Prague. In my head, Kendra and Q would make good colleagues, they would make good friends and partner's in crime. Q would be a good mentor, and Bond would hate it because his daughter is being dragged into the same world as him. But, in my head Q and Kendra would not work. **However**, if the majority of the people reading this fic are entirely turned off by that, I would try to build it in.

BUT: I just wanted to ask everyone's opinion of my ideas for Kendra's potential love interest. I had a few character sketches done of a few possible boyfriends. I'm just going to give you the quick version below. If one of these ideas appeals to you, please, please, _please_ tell me, because honestly I quite dislike Kendra and Q as a couple.

**Love Interest A:** a young spy, rather like Aaron Cross from The Bourne Legacy or Alex Rider from the Alex Rider series. he would be around 20 and end up meeting Kendra because he would have been hired to watch her after Bond's 'death' in the Skyfall time line. I was thinking that a guy like that would be strong enough to keep Kendra safe and smart enough to at the very least understand her most of the time. This seemed a little cliched to me, but I think it could work.

**Love Interest B:** A young doctor. A fresh medical student around 19, who is the exact opposite of the above. This one would be nervous and shy and terribly, terribly naive, but he would be able to keep up with Kendra intellectually and would be a healthy dose of normalcy, one that Kendra needs. In my head, he's rather like the Young doctor in 'A Young Doctor's Notebook', with a heart of gold, more optimism than the world can handle and almost no experience. This seemed very different to me for a Bond fic.

So these were my thoughts for Kendra's love interest. Believe me, I've given it a great deal of thought. Any feedback you can give me would be incredibly helpful. I love that so many people are interested in this story and I really want to deliver.

Thanks for reading and happy holidays!

VeilsofSleep


	8. Chapter 8

**Shout outs at the end, you guys are amazing. seriously. PS- lover A won the survey.  
**

**Admittance and Acceptance Part 1:**

Bond had recently noted a strange new behavior his daughter had adopted.

In the past several days, Kendra had not only been awake before him, but was often watching the mail slot with rapt attention. It was quite odd behaviour even for the unique younger Bond who thoroughly despised any time before the sun rose. Upon this morning, it seemed the mystery would be solved on this morning.

At exactly seven thirty he heard the tell tale sound of the mail arriving and the following footsteps told him that Kendra got to the envelopes first. He found her rifling through them in front of the door until finally she found the one she had been waiting for. Setting the rest on the counter, Kendra cleanly cut open the crisp paper and with baited breath read the letter contained within. The expression on her face relaxed as she scanned the page and suggested she was quite pleased. In fact, Bond arrived just in time to witness a rare smile, which was extraordinary in of itself.

"Lover's note?" James received a mild glare for his comment and the rather amused look on his face.

"University acceptance." She retorted smartly and handed him the letter.

_Dear Ms. Kendra Belfort,_

_We are proudly to congratulate you on your admittance into The Imperial College of London._

"You were _admitted_ to the same university you _hacked_ but two months ago?" his tone was speculative and mildly impressed. The closest to a complement she could get.

"With a full scholarship."

With a note of pride, Bond scanned the rest of letter. It stated they would make a special exception for Kendra and allow her to begin in January, despite the fact that normal students were usually enrolled in September. The day for the start of classes for the winter semester was but two weeks away; "Well, it seems you will be in need of supplies."

Without an ounce of regret, he pulled out that shiny black credit card she was so fond of.

* * *

After a bit of discussion, the term being used loosely, it was decided that Bond would personally drive Kendra to the nearest shopping center and would then return to pick her up once her shopping was complete. Apart from the occasional jaunt into a tailor's or a luxury boutique, James never shopped and refused to fight with the large crowds that would be gathered for a post Christmas shopping stampede. This suited Kendra just fine, as she hardly needed Bond judging her apparel choices or her penchant for buying everything in neutral shades of black and grey.

"Call me once you've finished," Bond explained the ground rules as they stood awkwardly in front of the mall. While she looked somewhat exasperated, he surveyed the area, looking for any potential threats and glancing at the exits.

"It's a mall. _Relax._"

"The best exit is to your right, don't go to the parkade and avoid the third floor, there are too many windows." The words were quick and fluid, "And **no** gambling."

"Kill joy." Kendra rolled her eyes.

It was just as Kendra turned away to head inside that Bond spotted a very real threat.

Le Chiffre's accountant.

Though the beast had been destroyed, James occasionally received reports about Quantum's remnants resurfacing every now and again. Usually they were quickly and quietly dealt with. Apparently this one got past MI6's excellent security network. It was quite certain that this man would remember the MI6 agent that ruined his life and would no doubt prefer to kill him. The man's eyes took a second to widen as he recognized the smoothly dressed spy and in a microsecond, the man's gaze turned back to Kendra.

"We need to go." Bond had Kendra's upper arm in a vice grip and dragged her through the crowd deliberately.

Despite his hesitance in leaving his rather marvelous Aston Martin behind, James decided it was far too traceable and that he would rather not lose it in a car chase throughout London, so the two ducked into the underground. From a reflection in glass, Bond hazarded that the man was still following him, along with a few body guards as well.

Fantastic.

"What is it? Who is it?" Kendra had the good sense not to argue with him, but that certainly did not stop her from interrogating him as they inconspicuously boarded a random train.

"Black trench, leather gloves, thinning hair," James hissed quickly, pulling her through the crowds. It took Kendra a few seconds to spot him. Indeed, there was a rather suspicious looking gentleman slowly following their steps. Judging by his apparel and his rather pathetic stalking skills, he was not a trained assassin.

"And his bodyguard." She noted the taller, younger man that was trying to box them in. This man was most definitely dangerous. The short buzz cut and strong arms suggested possible military background.

"Two. There's another one in the other compartment."

"And what did you do to them?"

Bond didn't answer and instead pulled her off the train just as the doors opened up at the next station. He was already on the phone to M. On any average day, Bond would have cornered these men and handled the situation in his own way. Today, however, he was with a highly untrained girl, one who had just recently learned how to fire a gun with barely acceptable proficiency. No, today he might need a helping hand.

"_Yes, hello?"_

"This is double o seven, give her the phone."

"_She's busy at the moment."_

"**Now.**"

"_Bond?_"

"I've got Le Chiffre's accountant tailing me with his body guards."

"_Did they recognize you?_"

**I stormed destroyed their super secret, evil, criminal society, hunted down them down like dogs, killed a large majority of their employees and ensured that they are all listed at the top of every watch list.**

"Obviously."

"_Don't get smart._" The order was sharp, but he could hear M harping on her minions. Though she acted like a clucking hen on occasion, M was damn efficient when she wanted to be, "_Alright we're tracking you. I've dispatched an agent to your location._"

That still left him with the problem of his daughter, who was sure to have a bruise on her arm from him yanking her about London's underground. He quickly counted the odds. It would be best if Kendra faced only one out of three.

"We're going to split up," Bond informed her quickly and ignored the immediate panic in her eyes, "Ideally, two will come after me and one will come after you." This would give her a fighting chance; being as small and quick as she was, James was certain she could evade one lead for long enough that he could take care of his own and find her.

"**Ideally**?!" she hissed but James was already calculating the distance from their current position to a convenient fork in the road. To the right was Waterloo station and then to the left were the service corridors of London's underground. Sending Kendra where there were people seemed like the most intelligent move; hiding in a crowd was always easy enough.

"Take this." He slipped his back up weapon into her jacket pocket, just in case, "In three." He waited for a second, "One, two, three." He shoved her towards the Waterloo station exit and paused only for a second to make sure that Kendra had broken into a run, before heading towards the service corridor.

Sure enough only one of the thugs followed her, giving James at least a bit of hope.

* * *

Shout Outs:

**imaninja -**Thanks, hopefully it continues to deliver.

**PeaceandCupcakes -**Daniel Radcliffe was spectacular in A Young Doctor's Notebook. I would recommend it, it's hilarious.

**ConfusedsoamI -**YAY I'm glad you like!

**DuchessofStrumpetness -**I'm so glad you like it. There will be many more hijinks to ensue ;) I quite adore your pen name. Where is it from?

**Scythe195 -**More on Kendra's psychological trauma ahead. I suppose option A can allow for a lot of hilarity as far as Bond is concerned...

**The Dangerous One -**Thank you! I was worried that Christmas was far too tame, but I'm glad you liked it!

**Margaret -**Time of uncertainty? I hope everything works out!

**Kicsiwixy -**Thank you so much! I hope your Christmas was full of good times and lots of fun! I'm glad you enjoy this story and follow it. You are the second person to suggest I add both A and B into the story.

**Akaylah -**I really liked the idea of A as well, but I think B is a more popular choice. I'm thinking I'll add both and see where the story goes.

**Lisistrataagonia -**AW, I really liked Renner :( He has a special place in my heart, but you're right, Matt Damon was awesome

**LilyLunaPotter142 -**Yeah, most people are leaning towards A...I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter.

**StandtallandSkyfall -**I am rather interested in this idea. I'm thinking this a very real possibility...

**Fan-de-carlisle-cullen -**I'm thinking the doctor would be more interesting as well, but I think the spy is more in demand...I'll bring in both and we'll see.

A/N:

So this is the first chapter in a three chapter arc and then I'm probably going to start on the Skyfall timeline. Here's hoping it's good!

Happy New Year!

VeilsofSleep


	9. Chapter 9

**You guys deserve a medal. My skills in action writing are my Achilles Heel. Hopefully this isn't to painful to read :S Shout outs at the end.  
**

* * *

**Of Admittance and Acceptance part 2:**

It was simple enough to lead the thugs on a merry chase through the secret passages of the London Underground. Admittedly Bond had little idea of which direction he was heading, but he could still hear the trains, meaning he wasn't too lost.

Of course then he hit a rather lovely dead end.

There was a door, which was unfortunately locked and there was little time for him to shoot out the thick padlock and escape. In essence, he had to follow the old adage 'A good defense is the best offense'.

Swinging around, he barely had time to take aim and shoot at one of the moving targets bounding towards him. He happened to strike the accountant in the shoulder. Not lethal, but painful enough to slow him down. That left the large, brutish man who looked to be former military of some sort.

Lovely.

Due to the close quarters, the man did not attempt to shoot, and instead charged at Bond, fast enough that he didn't have to aim and fire. In what could only be described as a crude rugby tackle, he pinned James to floor and went straight for the carotid rather than full on strangulation. That, at the very least, suggested they meant to take him alive; ten seconds of pressure on the carotid would end with him in unconsciousness rather than death.

Bond could only imagine what they had in store for him after that.

It was not a pretty picture; James had seen enough 'interrogations' to know that much.

**Oh HELL no. **

Le Chiffre may have bested James and been given the chance, but no other human in the world would ever torture James Bond.

**Unless it was that fetching model I met...**

Cursing his somewhat unique train of thought, James decided it was probably time to stop the man atop him. His vision was starting to blur and it would be seconds before he passed out completely.

With a quick whack to the man's arm and a second to his left kidney, Bond managed to faze his attacker long enough in order to wiggle out from under him. Next, a well aimed kick to the rib cage assured James a few seconds to find his gun. Of course in those few seconds, the man lashed out a leg and toppled James back into the dirt where he started and landed a few good kicks on him in revenge.

By this point, James' body was screaming in protest at the abuse it faced and he scrabbled the ground with his hands in a wild attempt at finding a gun. Usually in these situations, his luck wasn't too bad. Imagine his supreme irritation when his hands clenched nothing solid.

**Well, this is certainly a fine moment for a first time.**

Alas his weapon was quite mislaid in the dirt of the tunnel and the dull light was not helping matters.

Cursing mentally, James felt another blow land to the side of his rib cage and when he rolled he felt metal under his body. With quick fingers, he latched onto the solid weight of the pistol.

**Finally. **

"Alright Sirs, I think that's quite enough." The sound of a gun clicking and a smooth voice made everyone stop. Raising his face from the ground, Bond saw who M sent to aid him.

"Trevelyan."

"Bond." The man had his gun pointed in their general vicinity and looked very smug, "You were handling that well." The sarcasm was evident.

**Bastard.**

"Yes, I was." Bond held up the pistol in his hand which he had landed on seconds earlier and shot 006 a rather nasty glare.

"Come now, I was only joking James." Alec rolled his eyes at Bond's hostility. Behind him, more agents started to filter into the area and quickly had both the accountant and his body guard in irons, "Since this all is covered, perhaps we ought to locate that wayward daughter of yours."

* * *

**I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as a father's protection -Sigmund Freud**

* * *

It took Kendra only a few minutes to become hopelessly lost in the maze of tunnels and people. She was running too fast to even catch what the signs were saying and was panting hard. In fact, she was starting to wonder if running around like this was causing more attention that hiding her from her enemy, but James had said to run and so she would until he found her. Taking a sharp left, she bolted through an open door and found herself in a vast empty hallway with no witnesses and the ex-military gun for hire only seconds behind her.

**Fantastic. **

All she could do was continue to run. There was something primal about it; the closer her potential kidnapper or murderer got, the more boxed in she felt and the faster Kendra tried to move her legs. She could already imagine the forceful hands that would drag her away from the world that she had just so recently returned to.

A world she was content to leave.

It was such a heavy feeling that it made breathing difficult, it made moving difficult.

As she sprinted and made another left, her phone started ringing.

"Hello?" her voice came out in harsh breaths. There was a quality of panic in her voice which Kendra herself had not heard in what felt like years.

"_Make a left, Miss Belfort."_ The voice was unfamiliar and Kendra was very much hesitant to listen to it.

"Who the hell-?!"

"_My name is Q, Miss Belfort. I'm with MI6," _he assured her quickly and coolly, "_make your next left."_

As far as Kendra was concerned, a letter was neither an appropriate name nor an appropriate answer to her question, but at the moment, she hardly had time to argue with him. Instead, she followed his instruction, running the tiniest bit faster because she could hear the clank of army boots not far behind her.

"_Well done, now two more rights and you should reach a door._"

Ultimately, it was his calmness that gave Kendra single minded purpose. As long as someone sensible was guiding her, Kendra was more than willing to listen him. If not James, this man bearing a letter and MI6's backing seemed like a good enough substitute.

Her speed was enough to get to the next turn, but that was where her good luck ended.

After all, she was a short, teenage girl and he was a large, well trained man.

Eventually he would catch up with her.

**Inevitability.**

All she felt was a hand clamp down on her jacket and immediately, Kendra started struggling. Rough and coarse, they felt the same as the hands that had stolen her away. A thousand different memories of crushing hands and bodies rushed her at once; she could smell the abandoned warehouse and feel the chill of sheer terror, the terror she felt every night for three years.

Admittedly, she managed to get a good kick in, but he was far stronger. Clamping down on her arms with one hand, he raised the butt of his gun and let crash down on the back of her head.

It felt like her skull had shattered. With her blackened vision, Kendra wildly aimed the gun in her hand and instead felt it wrenched from her grip. S heard the gun clatter on the floor and then heard a shot fire off accidentally from the weapon that had just been tossed aside.

**He forgot to latch the safety.**

"Argh!" the man dropped her immediately and Kendra stumbled away and blinked furiously. With her vision clearing, she was quickly able to assess the situation; apparently her gun had gone off when it the floor and managed to hit her assailant in the shoulder, "Why you little-!"

With a swift fist, she lashed out his face and felt her knuckles contact bare skin.

Her victory was short lived as pain shot through her wrist and a hand wrapped around her torso.

"Let me go!"

Still probably a hundred and fifty pounds heavier than her, the man pinned her to the ground.

The panic got worse as his hands reached around her neck.

"Stop!"

_There was one client. _

_Hands around the neck._

_Always, hands around the neck, until the world blackened and she passed out._

_When she would awake, bruises, black and blue, all over her body._

Kendra always imagined what it would feel like to hear the sickening crunch of one's own neck snapping and as blood pounded in her ears, she wondered if it would be the last sound she ever heard.

"I suggest you follow the lady's order."

Both of them stilled. Standing about ten feet away at the other end of the hallway was 006, looking quite bemused and grim by the situation before him.

"If you come any nearer, I'll snap her neck." This one was not going to go down easily.

There was the distinct click of a safety on a gun unlatching and the man felt cold steel against the back of his head.

"I think if you so much as a move a muscle, my friend behind you will make sure your life is forfeit."

"Wrong. I'd make sure he went through **hell** before I sent him there_ myself_." It was Bond. The lilt in his voice suggested he was incredibly merciless at the moment and was not to be trifled with. There was no doubt he would insure that his threat be carried out to its fullest extent.

Kendra feared the malice in his voice. Due to habitual training, she thought it was meant for her. Exhaling a breath she hadn't known she was holding, Kendra swallowed back the lump that formed in her throat as hands unwound and cool air hit the too warm air of her skin.

Eyes as dark as night and as hard and cold as frosted glass greeted her; her father looked like the cold blooded assassin he was meant to be. The image was as terrifying as it was heart breaking.

She doubted that she would ever forget the utter hate in his eyes at that moment. Too much had been uncovered now.

He had seen the fear in her eyes and she had seen the anger in his.

It was much too late now to simply forget.

"It's over, Kendra."

And so it was.

* * *

**Shout Outs:**

**Platypus -**Aw see, I thought with so many Q-falls-in-love-with-Bond's-Daughter/Protege stories out there the whole pairing itself would have been cliche :( I stand by my assessment that Q would not make a good love interest for Kendra. I really, really hope that doesn't turn you off the whole story. I really appreciate your input though, I want to hear everyone's ideas :) PS- ABBA is amazing.

**The Dangerous One -**Thanks!

**Skybird716 -**Thank you so much! I really appreciate your complements and really hope this chapter does not disappoint. I hate writing action scenes because I suck majorly.

**Unspoken Goodbyes -**Thanks! I really hope you enjoy this chapter!

**fan-de-carlisle-cullen -**As a reader I do to, but I couldn't resist leaving a cliffhanger for all of you ;) Enjoy the chapter!

**ConfusedsoamI -**Yep, I'm pretty glad he is no longer living in the world of Bond.

**LilyLunaPotter142 -**Yes, the Bonds' often find themselves in sticky situations don't they?

**Margaret -**Aw well I hope you're feeling better! I just had a visit to the ER myself a few days ago. It most certainly sucked, but hopefully this chapters makes up for it!

**imaninja41** -I figured Kendra wouldn't have too much experience fighting yet (but she will...) so in this chapter she gets her butt kicked a little bit, though she does get a few good punches in...

A/N:

I'm not great with fight scenes as is obvious with the chapter above. I'm not happy with it, but after revising it nearly five times this was the best I could do. I truly hate writing fight scenes but James Bond is an action series so a few fight scenes are mandatory. Hopefully this was not as painful to read for you as it was for me.

Enjoy folks and thanks a million for all your absolutely fantastic review!

VeilsofSleep


	10. Chapter 10

**Shout outs at the end!**

* * *

**Of Admittance and Acceptance Part 3:**

James was running out of time.

With his three month grace period ending in a mere week and his daughter obstinately refusing to speak with him, a psychiatrist or another human, James was reaching his wits end. It had been three weeks since the unfortunate incident with Quantum's last little worm and since then Kendra had gone to school, eaten, slept and been present.

_Mostly._

She claimed to eat, sleep and study but Bond was well aware of how clever she was and how easily she could feed him a line. It was an area he himself excelled in.

"She's fine, M."

"_You're sure she's alright?"_ M had shown an odd amount of interest in the welfare of the Bond family.

"Yes."

"_Well, come in next week. we have a situation."_

"Ma'am." Bond shut his phone as Kendra strode out of her room with a back pack slung over her shoulder, "I assume you have at least one gun and a switchblade stashed away somewhere."

Yes, she had taken to once again arming herself. Before the attack, Kendra had stopped carrying arms and ammunition in her messenger bags and jacket pockets. Unfortunately she seemed to have reverted back to a state of being convinced that a villain lay around every corner.

Her jaw gritted at his accusation.

"_Two_ switchblades then."

A blink of confirmation and then Kendra slammed the door shut.

With a sigh, James gathered his jacket and the envelope that lay beneath it. While she was studying calculus and algebra, he had his own errands to run. A short drive later, he arrived at a rather fancy bank in downtown London. It had marble floors, French trim, velvet curtains and pretentious staff that could tell by the cut of his suit that James was important. It was the kind of place that had security, serious security, to protect its clients' assets.

"I would like to open a safety deposit box," he smiled charmingly at the woman who sat stiffly at the reception desk.

"Of course Sir," she replied looking pleased by his appraisal of her.

In but twenty minutes he sat in a tiny room with his very own solid titanium box. Opening the envelope he surveyed the contents inside one last time before sealing them away for what he thought would be a long while.

There were only one page inside; a birth certificate, Kendra's birth certificate.

The only link beyond blood that Kendra shared with him was this single sheet of paper. It stated that she was his daughter. No database in the world had James Bond listed as Kendra Belfort's father, both for her protection and his, but James was realizing that more was needed to insure her safety. It seemed things attached to his name always ended up dead and James was starting to feel the burden of a life other than his own.

Slipping the paper back into its envelope, he placed it carefully in the box and locked it away, as though he was hiding the truth from everyone just so it could remain pure.

The weight on his shoulders did not budge an inch however.

* * *

Before she had even slipped her bag off her shoulder, James had rushed Kendra out of the house. Before she could protest, she was settled in his Aston Martin and on her way to a fancy dinner, Italian because Bond was well aware it was her favorite.

They scrutinized each carefully as their waiter brought out menus.

"I'll have the lamb." Bond addressed the waiter for the first time.

"Gnocchi." Kendra stiffly passed him her menu.

Once the man left with their order, James turned back to his daughter; however she refused to play his game and was instead focussed on twisting her napkin. There was a tightness in her jaw and a thick veil over her eyes that made it impossible for Bond to read her, but he could guess.

"Even I don't carry more than one back up knife."

He was met with stony silence.

"Admittedly, being offensive is better than being afraid but you are taking it slightly overboard."

Patiently, Bond sipped his wine. It took Kendra a full two minutes of squirming under his gaze before she cracked.

"I'm not going to be a target."

"For who-?"

"For **anyone**." Her eyes flashed with pain and her tone with finality.

They ate in silence after that, while Bond tried to recalculate the situation. Impossibly enough, her pointed words seemed to be directed towards him in particular, though he could hardly ascertain what he had done.

**Whatever it is you're seeking won't come in the form you're expecting –Haruki Murakami **

It was late when Bond finally trudged back into his apartment. After dinner he dropped Kendra home and vanished to grab a drink stronger than wine. The apartment was absolutely still, too still in fact to be normal. Ignoring the pit in his stomach that was forming at the thought of his odd daughter opening the door to an empty apartment, James changed out of his tie and suit and did his usual nightly round of checking the windows and double checking the lock on the door. Once he was satisfied, Bond headed towards his warm bed, but stopped short when he noted that Kendra's bedroom door was ajar.

"Kendra?" he called quietly, reaching for the pistol he had hidden in a nearby flower pot. Slipping open the door, Bond clicked on the lights with one hand and held the gun in his other.

What he saw was not what he expected.

Jammed into a small corner of her room, Kendra had sheer panic in her eyes at the sight of him and reached wildly for the Walther that was resting on the ground next to her.

"Kendra, it's me!" James quickly soothed, dropping his gun on a table as he went, "_Jesus_."

Breathing hard, Kendra swallowed, blinking her glassy eyes.

Settling on the ground next to her, James waited a few seconds as her breathing normalized.

"Kendra, I-"

"I** hate** feeling afraid." Her voice very much sounded afraid and wavered and cracked as she spoke, "But those _bastards_ made me feel it **every **day."

There was a beat of silence.

"One man, he used choke me while he..." Feeling her father tense beside her, Kendra trailed off and felt just a few tears trail down her cheek. Bond's fist tightened and he felt like his jaw would crack with how hard he was clenching it, "He looked as angry at me as you did at that man." A variety of emotions that he had buried down for years surged forward and assailed his mind. Mostly it was disgust, disgust that he could instill the same fear in her as the man she spoke of and a white hot fury that she had ever felt such fear, "I don't know how to make it stop."

And neither did James evidently as he sat rigidly and tried to think of something other than returning to Prague and massacring the remains of that human trafficking group.

It took a few seconds for him to return his attention away from European mobsters and their unfortunate ends and back to his daughter.

Apparently Kendra did not like it when Daddy was angry and so, with great reluctance, Bond decided against leading a crusade to Prague and instead took several deep breaths.

James put an arm around her small shoulders and after adamantly sitting ramrod straight for a few seconds, Kendra leaned into his side and pressed her face against the cotton of his shirt. Somehow that small action made Kendra feel a touch safer.

Though he had not a single clue as to how to deal with the rest of it, he felt it imperative that she know he was not about to hurt her. It occurred to him that no one had specifically ever told Kendra that, told her that she didn't need to be afraid. It had probably meant her survival while she was in Prague, but here it would only be a hindrance.

"That man deserved my hate," James spoke finally. The last thing he had intended was for Kendra to fear him, "You do not, nor will you ever."

The words were so simple and so obvious. In her mind, she knew them to be true, but hearing them aloud made Kendra believe him.

* * *

Shout outs:

**Steel-Alchemist -**Why thank you :)

**Margaret -**just some minor issues, nothing to worry about. ER's do suck. There is a pairing with in my plot ;) and of course there is Bond Whump. Most of Skyfall was Bond whump! I'm glad you like story and so grateful for your review!

**imaninja41 -**Lol, you seem pretty awesome with you WWE and Kung fu there. I'm afraid I'm not quite as awesome :( But thank you so much for your encouragement. I'm so glad it was good.

**ConfusedosamI -**Its okay, no cliffie in this one!

**LilyLunaPotter142 -**Yep, James saved her and scared the bejesus outta her all once. Thanks for the encouragement! I really appreciate it!

**fan-de-carlisle-cullen -**Too bad his paternal instincts kicked in as soon as Skyfall is about to start...

A/N:

So friends, here is one very late update. School has begun and my course load is hella heavy this semester, so updates will most likely be following a slower pace.

My apologies in advance for any late updates.

VeilsofSleep


	11. Chapter 11

**Shout outs at the end!**

* * *

**Chapter 11: When it Crumbles.**

Though Bond left before Kendra awoke, he was sure to whisper a short farewell whilst planting a single kiss upon her forehead. In the late night he stole away from his home in Downtown London and made his way to the specified airfield. It was like a switch in his head had been flicked and now James thought only about the mission and if the mission was finished quickly and cleanly he might be back in time for Kendra's birthday.

Logic dictated that missing a single birthday would hardly constitute a big deal, but James knew better.

Straight through to Turkey, he travelled. On long flights he often elected to drink or sleep. Travelling first class was a way to assure that both those needs were met and after a full day's rest in Istanbul, Bond headed out into the field with a small team. The plan had been set for weeks in advance.

They knew the date, time and place of this particular covert exchange, all that was needed was facilitators with the skills and capability to carry out the job.

It was simple. Simpler than half a dozen missions James had performed solo and infinitely more important. The names of NATO agents, all of them, were at stake. He was well aware of how crucial anonymity was for a spy and several had their covers in jeopardy.

But humans were thoroughly unknowable elements, weren't they?

"Take the damn shot!"

**.**

**.**

**.**

The fall felt longer than he expected, or perhaps he continued to fall, even after his body hit the water.

**.**

**.**

**.**

James couldn't tell.

A hundred different sights and sounds assailed him all at once.

.

.

.

_He made you feel it, did he?_

_._

_._

_._

_I'm the money._

_._

_._

_._

_You want me to be half monk, half hit man._

_._

_._

_._

_When you can't tell your friends from your enemies it's time to go._

_._

_._

_._

_I hate feeling afraid._

_._

_._

_._

Unless hell comprised of angry Turkish bickering and the smell of foreign spices, James very much doubted he was there.

One day perhaps, but not this day. Everything was heavy, far too heavy to allow for any sort of movement. With great difficulty, Bond prised his eyes open. If he was to judge, he was still upon the living plane and specifically in a decrepit shack clinic of some quack doctor outside of Istanbul, probably near the ocean of the sound of surf was anything to judge by.

_Take the damn shot._

He nearly died. It took a few simply words from some woman across the world to facilitate his almost death. James should have known, he had done much the same time and time again. Still the realization poked brutally through his chest.

James Bond laughed as deeply and openly as he could.

He nearly died, but still James laughed.

He would most certainly miss Kendra's birthday.

* * *

Living above an Italian takeout restaurant had its perks, free pasta and pizza being the most notable; however it also had its downside.

_Firstly_, that French couch Kendra had pilfered earlier that day from her father's apartment as it was being cleaned out barely fit in the one bedroom closet she had rented, leaving no space for a desk or in fact a bed. However, Kendra would not part with that couch and this apartment was all she could find in the rush she had been in.

Apparently, George Edwards had not made a full will before he died. Sure enough, Kendra was given charge of his monetary assets, but the apartment and the belongings inside were not hers and were put in storage.

_Secondly_, she could no longer simply lounge around and attend university at her leisure. What with investigating the mysterious stalker she had gained in the course of the afternoon, dealing with sudden loss and rationing the small fortune her father had left, Kendra did not have time to simply sulk.

But _chiefly_, Kendra's main issue with the apartment above 'Theo's Pizza' was the fact that her incorrigible and inexperienced father was absent from it and had been declared dead. Yes, it was that simple fact that upset Kendra more than anything that had happened that afternoon. Murphy's law would have it that on his very first day back on the job, James Bond would go and get himself killed. Some toxic combination of fury and grief swirled in Kendra's system. It felt like her soul was being poisoned.

_Again._

If she were thinking coherently, Kendra might have done something like tracking down her father's killers, or hell, even finding out how precisely he had died. That would come later no doubt, right now however, Kendra was sitting numbly, staring out her window at the windy, rainy street below.

Her eye then caught the same young man she had been spotting all afternoon.

He had been there when a man in a dark suit approached her at the university with bad news.

He had watched from across the street, while she watched her home being emptied of its furniture and belongings.

He had been there when she threw a hissy fit over the couch and determinedly refused to let it go.

He watched her negotiate rent with Luigi downstairs.

And here he was again.

Well enough was enough. Clenching her jaw, Kendra rubbed her traitorous eyes and grabbed her jacket and gun. Storming down and across the street, she hurried over and shoved the young man as hard as she could and pointed her weapon at him, "Who are you?!"

To give him credit, he had not moved or twitched as she assaulted him. Quite to the contrary, he seemed somewhat amused; "I was expecting you to pull a gun ages ago. Apparently you're not as volatile as I've been led to believe."

That was no answer but Kendra did note that his accent was American.

With satisfaction, he watched as Kendra punched down on the safety.

"Calm down, Ms. Bond."

"It's Belfort." She snarled back, "Why are you following me? And why are you so piss poor at it?!"

"Because I was hired to _only_ follow you." He shrugged with an easy smirk, "No one mentioned remaining hidden and anonymous."

_Hired_. That was an important distinction. Her father and people like him were always ordered; they belonged to an organization or a government where a chain of command existed. This person was something different. He was _hired_ and largely a singular entity. Untraceable and probably unknown.

Very much like herself.

"By who?" It was the next imperative question.

"It seems MI6 is outsourcing menial tasks these days, no doubt because of the high body count that's piled up recently," he shrugged again and glanced down the street before stepping out onto the road, "Does dear Theo make a decent slice? I'm starving."

Containing her fury, Kendra gritted her jaw while weighing her options.

True enough she had once hacked MI6 and might be able to pull it off again given enough time and programming capability, but Kendra would be no good for anything if she was arrested as M had threatened to do.

Whoever this was, he was probably her best shot at getting any answers into James Bond's death, so she stowed her gun and followed him.

* * *

**Victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is not survival –Winston Churchill**

* * *

"Ma'am, you have a meeting," Tanner found her sitting in front of her computer, staring at something intently. It wasn't often that he caught her of guard, but for a second, he swore he saw surprise in M's eyes.

"Of course," she nodded curtly and started gathering her things. Out of the corner of her eye, M watched the security feed from the entrance below. Young Kendra Belfort had just taken off as though the devil possessed. Every time M so much as thought of the girl, guilt assailed her.

Not for Bond's death, no, M was a consummate professional in that sense.

It was more the thought of yet another young orphan left behind in the world, this time by her hand.

Little more than a girl, Kendra was now going to face incredible odds to get her life back in order. The series of traumas she had faced was unique and incredibly unfortunate and any normal human in M's position would have at least offered her condolence by now. But M could hardly swallow past the remorse needed to speak. Bond was dead and there was little her words could do, at least that was what she thought.

Apologies never helped anyone and condolences would be wasted upon a man who was never supposed to really exist anyway.

"Ma'am?"

"Coming, Tanner."

Still, M could not help but wonder if it wouldn't be better that Kendra be cared for by MI6.

There could be benefit for them both eventually.

* * *

Shout outs:

**Platypus -**There is much more to come! And Bond will most definitely find his daughter involved in the spy game ;) I'm so glad you liked the updates!

**Duchess of Strumpetness -**I'm glad you returned for more! hopefully this update finds you well.

**Margaret -**More will explained in this chapter and the next!

**The Dangerous One -**He's still being a good parent-even though he's pretending to be dead. Don't worry...

**fan-de-carlisle-cullen** -I've got a lot more planned for these two. Bond will prove how good a parent he is :)

**LilyLunaPotter142 -**Thanks, I hope you like this chapter!

**imaninja41 -**Yeah, it was very angsty.

**ConfusedsoamI -**I'm sorry, please put down the pitchfork! Jokes. Yeah, I've got a heavy course load, so it took me a while, sorry! Hopefully the last chapters and this one makes up for it!

Thanks for all your reviews, you guys are fantastic!

A/N: Here is the first chapter in the sky fall arc. I'm not sure how many chapters its going to be. There's going to be some very Kendra-centric chapters taking place. I'm going to add Bond in as much as I can, but while he playing dead, all he did was booze on a beach. Hopefully the action is enough to counter balance Bond's lack of action.

Anywho, as always your reviews and critiques are appreciated!

VeilsofSleep


	12. Chapter 12

**YAY! I've got a 100 review for story! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME!**

* * *

_**So, I'll say my good byes,  
**_

**_laugh, laugh, I Nearly Died_ -Rolling Stones**

Bond's initial thought was to find a way to contact MI6 as quickly as he was able, but the longer he thought about it, the less his sense of urgency seemed to matter. Once he could walk again and his chest stopped leaking, James left the clinic without a good bye. He wandered around Istanbul and finally found himself at the beach on a cloudless, moonless night.

There was very little to say after that, and so he chose not to speak at all.

In the last several days he had taken refuge with a pretty young barmaid who lived in a shack down from the broken down bar he enjoyed drinking at.

With mild derision, James skimmed the obituary M had written for him.

It had certainly taken some effort to get his hands upon the article in an anonymous fashion, but Bond had managed well enough. It seemed to be a homage to a nonexistent Bond, the one who was a straight arrow and never mixed business with pleasure. It was a mockery really, but James could hardly blame M for it. Better that everyone remember him this way then the way he truly was. They would all sleep better at night thinking the protectors of his country were not boozing womanizers.

He was relieved to see one key detail. The article stated that 'Bond died leaving behind no spouse or next of kin' as per his wishes. If nothing else, Kendra would be safe. Or at least safe enough for the time being. Bond trusted enough to hope that Kendra would stay away from MI6 and anything to do with his life from this day forward, but he also had a general idea of how her mind worked. Not to mention that M, despite being rather maternal in appearance, was still the Director of MI6 and was as shrewd and calculating as they came.

Kendra had a skill set; it was as simple as that.

More so, she knew exactly how to use that skill set; if she were sensible she would use it to turn herself into a profitable woman. If she was as annoyingly loyal as James guessed, she would pursue the matter of his death and hopefully would never find him and never know the truth.

For a time he might have felt slightly guilty for not attempting to contact his daughter, but then James concluded that it was really for the best. There was more than enough money to help her build a life. It was a chance to get a fresh start, a chance he never really got.

"Another scotch?" the rather haggard looking barkeep asked throatily.

It was not fancy scotch. Nothing pristinely aged or served in a fancy tumbler by a gloved bartender. It was in a barely hygienic glass with a crack in it. The ice was questionable to boot.

"Why not?" James picked up the glass once it was full of dark liquid, "Here's to the fallen, eh?"

The article was crumpled but not forgotten.

* * *

Since there was no body, there was no real funeral.

Sure, they buried an empty coffin for propriety's sake, but M new no one's heart was really in it.

Still a few faces from MI6 headquarters made an appearance at both James Bond's funeral and 'George Edwards'. They stood quietly amidst a small crowd since neither James nor George had any relations left and those that were there were simply there to keep Bond's cover. What struck M the most was the exceedingly depressing notion that Kendra was not allowed to attend James Bond's funeral and instead had to stand over a grave stone bearing the name of a cover rather than her father.

M had caught glimpse of her and could not help but note how much paler and thinner she looked.

Guilt wormed it's way into her stomach again and once more M wondered if there was anyway she could fix what had been done.

* * *

Like the confounded cloud that had taken residence over London, Kendra refused to move from the front stoop of MI6. It had been a full week; for a full week, Kendra had been awaiting word from someone, anyone really, to explain what was going on. Neither M nor Trevelyan appeared at the gates to comfort or console. Even the man who had come to inform her of 'George Edwards' unfortunate accident had been mum on the subject of James Bond.

"I brought you lunch." The infuriating American gun-for-hire appeared in her peripheral holding some sort of baked good. As he explained before, his only job was to watch her and so he did with annoying regularity. He arrived at her classes and dogged her steps without ever revealing any of his secrets.

Surely he knew about the matter that forced her to stay outside government headquarters like some wraith, but he was altogether too stubborn.

"Go away." On this particular day Kendra was angry rather than sad.

For several days, sad had been the flavor of choice, no in tears, but just by the haunted look in her eyes. Kendra's nightmares, which had barely quieted, returned full force, leaving her a rather emotional wreck. Today however, she was plan and simply angry.

Whatever MI6 had done to beef up their cyber security had worked. A few months ago, their firewalls had been rather like an egg shell: easy to crack. Now, when she tested the strength of the firewall, Kendra ended up destroying her own computer. Now she was out another two grand for a new lap top and no closer to any sort of lead. It was highly infuriating.

Hence the reason she was stalking the doorways of the intelligence community. There was a security camera pointed right at her and every now and then she would glare into it, hoping that M was watching. The woman, who pretended to be so very concerned about the Bond family, had yet to offer a single word of condolence. There wasn't even one of her neatly typed letters on the front porch.

_Bitch._

"Why are you still here?" she turned her anger on the young man who was expectantly holding out a croissant to her.

"Eating lunch." He replied with a certain amount of resoluteness. In fact, he was so resolute that he had not even told Kendra his name. All he was, was a shadow following her every move.

Before Kendra could retort rudely, her phone beeped. The sound was surprising in of itself because Kendra had no one to call and certainly no one would ever need to call her. Well, not anymore in any case.

Halting mid retort, she flicked her screen to the message.

It was a text that simply read 'SOS' from an unknown number.

Immediately, Kendra's heart jumped into her throat. This was what she was waiting for. Ignoring the man beside her completely, Kendra quickly settled on the ground and pulled out her laptop. She was hardly foolish enough to simply call the number back. Instead, she would track it. Now she was embroiled with matters covert, it hardly do for her to overt.

Unlike MI6's firewalls, the phone number was incredibly easy to hack and in minutes she had coordinates in her hand.

Macau, she was going to Macau.

* * *

**_I've been missing you, but you just don't care_ -Rolling Stones**

Bond never let himself be bothered by dreams and nightmares.

True enough, for a while all he had dreamed of Vesper. She had been all he wanted, but once that fell away, James was left with very little and that suited him fine.

Now, laying in bed with a woman whose last name he did not know and who didn't even know his first name, he wondered how long he would be able to keep this up. Surely his death would not affect the world in any great way, but still, something in James Bond twinged.

Twinged at the thought of a lonely girl and where she might seek refuge.

His resolve had already started cracking and James yearned for all of it. For the feel of a gun in his hand and for revenge and to complete the missions he had left undone.

* * *

The GPS coordinates led to a particularly fascinating part of Macau. It was just off the beaten path and not quite poor, but certainly not as wealthy as the fancy casinos and the entertainment district. It was a more middle classed part of town, where the average man dwelt. Perhaps for that reason, Kendra did not feel out of place in her scuffed shoes and leather jacket. It was easier to blend in here than with the rich businessmen and fancy mistresses of the economically wealthy parts of town.

"Once again, crazy lady, this is probably a trap." Despite his insistence, Kendra had booked a ticket on the first flight to Macau and in an obligatory fashion, her stalker followed, but not without complaining pretty much the entire way.

"Nobody cares enough to trap me," Kendra retorted. Apart from him and a few members of MI6, no one was even aware of who Kendra Belfort was and who her relations were. She was unimportant in the grand scheme of things and so in a much better position to investigate then everyone else. Because her language skills were not quite as diverse as she liked them to be, Kendra was relying on her GPS navigator to reach her destination and when she arrived at the tall abandoned building, she was hardly surprised.

Without hesitation, she hurried to the door. More and more, he was starting to wonder if Kendra was completely around the bed.

"Would you hang on?!" he grabbed her arm and yanked her back, "at least let me go first!" pulling out a gun from his jacket, he led her in. Kendra had no idea when or how he acquired the weapon during their drive from the airport, but she had to admit that it was probably wise to be armed, "Fourth floor right?"

"Apartment 43," Kendra confirmed with a nod. Carefully creeping up the stairs, eventually they found themselves in front of apartment 43. So far there had been no signs of life or of a trap. Despite the suspicion they were feeling, Kendra and her companion burst in quickly.

Immediately they came face to face with the barrel of another gun.

"Kendra, you made it." The gun was lowered.

"Trevelyan?!" Kendra looked affronted as 006 casually put his gun away and sauntered over to the counter where a half drunken glass of bourbon was waiting.

"You got here quite quickly," Alec nodded with a smirk, "Rather like he would have."

In an instant, Kendra's face became stony, "What do you know?"

"Now, now take a breather," his eyes twinkled as he took note of the young man who seemed to be accompanying and defending Bond's progeny. The boy looked no older than nineteen and was young and handsome. But there was something in his eyes that Alec recognized, "Introduce me to your _boyfriend_."

"Not my boyfriend, just some Toadie _MI6_ hired." Kendra glared, "Now why did you call me?"

"I've been cut off from MI6," Alec finished his glass, "I was on a job and ended up on the run and without means of escape."

"Does this have anything to do with my father?" Kendra's next question was one Trevelyan expected.

"Not that I am aware of," Alec admitted. Of course it was quite possible that Alex's mission did have to do with 007, probable even, but there was no confirmation of that fact, so really Trevelyan had only told her a half truth. Those who did know the exact details of Bond's death were keeping mum and only a few main particulars had leaked about the situation, "Now about this Toadie of yours. We may on occasion hire freelancers, but I doubt we'd ever hire someone that barely looks to be out of grade school. So the question remains as to _who_ this young man is."

In a flash, 006 had his gun pointed at the stranger and strategically located himself in front of Kendra while the young gun for hire rolled his eyes.

"Well, Ms. Belfort and I will be on our way-"

"I'm just keeping an eye on her." He seemed quite serious and had not lowered his weapon a single fraction yet, but as the little bit of trust in Kendra's eyes drained away, he realized he needed to up the ante. Stowing his gun, he held up both hands in a sign of bargain, "My name is Carter."

"And if your orders change to something more _aggressive_, then what, _Carter_?"

"I get to _choose_ if I take them or not." he than threw Kendra a charming smile, "We don't have time to argue. I can assure you that there will be men with semi automatic pistols flanking the outside of the apartment as we speak."

Suspicion quickly colored Alec's face, "Who are you working for?"

There was no time for an answer, as the door was quickly kicked open. With swift, militaristic precision, an entire hit team of men stormed the tiny room. Well aware that they were grossly outnumbered and outgunned, neither Alec nor Kendra's companion moved. Instead, with simple unacknowledged understanding, they moved into a defensive position around the weakest of their crew.

"And now we'll get to meet someone real impressive."

* * *

**Shout Outs:**

**Maragaret -**Its not going to be AU, it'll follow the Skyfall plot almost completely and Kendra's arc will fit into the film.

**ConfusedsoamI -**She'll probably have a few meetings with Silva...And she will be meeting Q in a few chapters :)

**The Dangerous One -**Thanks! I'm a bit nervous about starting the Skyfall bit. I feel like it won't be up to scratch, but thanks!

**Unquestionably Unhinged -**Silva is definitely going to turn up...

**fan-de-carlisle-cullen -**M's going to get it, trust me. And Bond will be kicking ass and taking names if anyone lays a hand on his little girl.

**LilyLunaPotter142 -**Yeah, the unfortunateness of what's going on is well, unfortunate.

**imaninja11 -**Not quite. MI6 will play a large part in Kendra's life, but they won't specifically be raising her...

**A/N:  
**

Alright, so a more Kendra focused episode I'm afraid. Since we all know that Bond sat on a beach sipping whiskey for three months, there's very little I can write about him, so for at least this chapter and the next two, Bond's appearances will be minimal. Once the explosion and MI6 happens, then we will returned to more Bond filled chapters. Introduction of new character has been complete. He'll be coming in and out of the story and will be a guest star rather than a regular cast member.

Till next time Review/Rant/Rate

Thanks a bunch,

Veils of Sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

_Shout outs at the end!_

* * *

_**History is moving pretty quickly these days and the heroes and villains keep on keep on changing parts -**_**Ian Fleming**

* * *

In the darkened night, the light glittered off the water and flickered as their tiny gondolas disturbed the stillness.

It had taken them a short ride in an unmarked, black vehicle of some sort and from Kendra could gather they were moving into the rich part of Macau. Her theory was proven true when she stepped out of the car to find herself staring at a marvelous looking casino which was separated from the busy city by a large lake. It was adorned with lights that seemed to swath the oriental building in an appealing 'come hither' type of way. It was certainly fancy and Kendra was certainly under dressed. The rather husky looking men who had ambushed them had separated her from Carter.

While Carter had survived his journey in a second car, Alec was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is Trevelyan?" she hissed the words at him as he sat in a second gondola that was drifting beside hers. Like her, he too had a rather large, armed man standing right behind him.

"He wasn't important, they left him behind." The words were low and quick. From what Kendra had been able to gather in the last week, Carter was supremely laid back, but now he was tense, nervous even. More to the question of who in the hell they were going to meet.

Flanked by the two thugs, Kendra and Carter entered the casino. As expected they were heavily under dressed for such a swanky place, but the patrons knew better than to question the odd happenings of this particular club. Once they reached the main floor, the guards abruptly stopped. After a second of wondering why, it became apparent.

A woman, a painfully beautiful woman, descended from the second floor with some sort of rich, expensive fabric swirling about her body. Dark eyes surveyed the two of them as curiously as they could, "Carter, isn't this nice?" Her voice was deep and rich and accented, "Someone wants to see you."

"Lovely." Carter did not look as though he was impressed. With a nudge, a guard pushed him towards a shut door. Gritting his teeth, Carter disappeared through the doorway, leaving Kendra alone and utterly unarmed.

"Who are you?" Kendra decided to go straight answers.

"It's late, I'm sure you are hungry." The woman avoided her query and nodded at the guard, who melted away. With an elegant turn, the woman ascended the stairs, this time with Kendra behind her. The comparison was a stark one. While the woman floated up the stairs with a gait like a cat's, Kendra followed awkwardly with her heavy footsteps like and unsteady baby. While she would not admit it aloud, Kendra was most certainly hungry.

A small table had been prepared for them in a corner of the casino, away from prying eyes and ordinary disturbances, "Sit."

The distrust was obvious in Kendra's eyes.

"My name is Severine and I, at least, mean you no harm," the woman nodded and swept an arm towards the table, "Sit."

Something caught Kendra's eye as Severine extended her arm with a flourish. It was a certain tattoo on the inside of her wrist. Curiously, she sat down while distractedly trying to get another glance of the faded black ink. As soon as Severine herself was seated, a waiter brought their first course, a colorful salad that looked happier than Kendra felt.

"What's your name?" Severine asked after taking a sip of red wine.

Gritting her jaw, Kendra stared stonily at the perfectly white table cloth.

"Very well," she nodded in acknowledgment of the girl's hesitation, "In that case, perhaps you have a question for me."

With a guarded glance, Kendra picked up her fork; "Your tattoo."

It wasn't a question, but Severine understood it regardless, "A mark from a painful past. Nothing more."

"My mother had one too."

Severine's eye brow quirked, "Did she now?"

* * *

"Ah Carter, dear boy!" looking jovial, the white haired man under whose employ Carter was currently held, smiled widely, but it did not reach his eyes, "You made it to China without any troubles I assume?"

It never did.

For as long as Carter had known this man, he had only seen him a number of times. Every time Carter wondered what had happened to this man that made his eyes so cold and furious. There was no feeling in those eyes, just a dull hatred that would occasionally flare given the right catalyst. Carter was not a such a catalyst, his eyes were clear and amused, "Not in any effort to get in your way, Silva."

"Yes, yes, an unfortunate coincidence," Silva nodded docilely, which made Carter wonder if it was really a coincidence, "You've done beautifully, but I'm afraid the job is done." In response to the look of confusion on Carter's face, he continued; "I simply wanted a chance to see her in person in order to confirm a suspicion. Now I have."

"And I?"

Silva motioned to one of his guards and Carter tensed.

* * *

"_006, where the hell have you been?"_ M sounded antsy. Then again given the fact that dozens of agents probably had their covers compromised all over the globe and endangered innumerable projects gave M justified reason to be a little nervous.

"I got cut off," Alec shook his head. After Kendra and her friend had disappeared into two unmarked vehicles, the remaining two guards had simply left him there on the side walk feeling utterly in consequential, "I didn't find the drive. It was a wild goose chase."

The sound of M clenching her jaw was almost audible. This would not be good for any of them.

"_Is that all?_"

"Yes ma'am."

For now at least, Alec would keep the younger Bond's involvement a secret.

* * *

Somewhat dazed by a rather heavy conversation, Kendra found herself back at the airport with a one way ticket back to London paid for in cash.

Carter was gone. Despite the many times she demanded to know where he was, Severine refused to yield any information. Truthfully, Kendra very much doubted the woman knew herself exactly. From what she could gather, Severine was employed by the same person or persons that Carter worked for and judging by the fact that the woman had no idea who Kendra was, things were on a strictly need to know basis. Though Kendra did not want to leave the country without first finding both Trevelyan and Carter, Severine made it clear that Kendra's free pass would end if she did not take the first flight back to England.

Actually as she fingered her tattoo, Severine had explained in a low voice; "Young women get lost here and can almost never escape. _Never_. Leave while you are still able."

Apparently, her mother, like Severine, had been a sex slave in Macau in her earlier life. Due to some unknown circumstance about which she refused to speak about, both Severine and her mother had been saved from the life and her mother further broke away from Macau entirely, something it seems Severine had not been able to do. Kendra got the feeling it was do a man, not a lover, but a jailor. Of course she had no proof, so all Kendra could do was listen patiently as Severine explained it all.

"You're mother, it seems, could not fully escape from this place either," Severine released a puff of smoke, "You say she died and you were sold to a trafficking ring in Amsterdam?"

A rather ironic smirk appeared on her face. Severine did not doubt it was Silva's revenge. Decades ago, he had 'saved' them for their terrible fate and then Serena had turned heel and vanished so completely that not even he could find her. Kill the one that got away and sentence her child to the same fate as her, it seemed like the type of revenge he would perpetrate. But once again, Serena Belfort and now her daughter, proved to be more resilient then anyone expected.

"I suggest you leave town, Kendra," Severine smiled at the tiny girl, it was a smile that was somewhat close to kind, "Leave this place before you too become trapped."

Having found out only a handful of details to do with her mother's secret past and almost nothing about her father's death, Kendra was hesitant to leave Macau. However there were some risks that she even she was not willing to take.

* * *

_Unfortunately, the clock is ticking, the hours are going by. The past increases, the future recedes. Possibilites decreasing, regrets mounting - _Haruki Murakami

**Three Months later:**

**Knock, knock**

An ominous sound.

Since MI6 headquarters had exploded earlier that day, the whole of London seemed to have entered a state of unofficial martial law. The streets were utterly empty and desolate save for the occasional cop car and everything was quiet, both out of mourning and worry. For her part, Kendra had hidden herself away in her apartment as she had done so for much of the last three months. Aside from school, there was very little Kendra sought from the outside world.

Carter was gone, he never returned from Shanghai and she never had the courage to go back.

Alec had not called.

James was still dead and despite her cyber snooping, she still did not why.

The mysterious man who was responsible for sending her to the hell hole in Amsterdam was as mysterious as ever.

which led to the question of who on God's green earth was knocking at her door.

Keeping her gun tucked against her side, Kendra stood by the door, "Who is it?"

"Q." the letter was smooth and quick and Kendra recognized it an instant. This was the same Q who had helped her many months ago. This was a man of MI6.

unlatching the door, Kendra stood back. He was most certainly not like the other agents she had seen. Tall and leonine, he had scruffy hair and looked more like a graduate student than a spy. He also did not look like a threat in anyway. Judging by the sling his arm was on in and the dirt on his clothing, this man had been in the neck of the explosion at MI6 headquarters.

"What do you want?" Kendra gritted her jaw.

"No pleasantries?" he asked with a rather dry demeanor and judged by the look on her face that the younger child of a famous James Bond was not amused, "Help, Young Kendra, we need help."

* * *

The flight back to London was longer and more arduous that Bond had ever remembered a flight being.

Granted he was traveling economy instead of first class and was still recovering from the perpetual hangover of the last three months, James still had not expected the flight to feel so jarring. Having given up the notion of staying away from MI6, London and Kendra, James took the first flight out of Istanbul was soon as he heard about the explosion.

It was a personal move, someone would need intimate knowledge of MI6 to orchestrate an attack upon it and Bond needed to go back, he knew he did.

Too much needed to be squared away.

Swallowing back the taste of bile, he slipped the laser engraved metal key from his security deposit box out of his pocket. The thing seemed so innocuous, but it had been like a lead weight in his pocket for three months. It was a constant reminder of all the failures he left behind.

But still James Bond was coming home. That had to count for something.

* * *

SHOUT OUTS:

**Margaret -**Yep, its going to be like a side story in Skfall. It'll feature all the main plot points of skyfall. Usually I find with a story like this, the original plot gets over run by the OC, I'm trying to avoid that. Call it an experiment if you will :)

**hgismylife379 -**Welcome to the party! Yeah, I'm not very much a fan of the older James Bond films, they have their place and all, but Craig is one of my favorites. I enjoy Brosnan simply because he's the Bond of the my childhood. I'm glad you like this story! I'm trying to have it be as in character as possible and I'm very glad you enjoyed reading it.

**LaraFinja -**This is what makes me super happy. Thank you so much for giving this story so much of your time, it makes me really happy to know that people enjoy reading it as much as I do writing it!

**fan-de-carlisle-cullen -**Bond is an idiot, its fundamental to the story. He had no clue what he's doing with this fatherhood business and I think he's allowed a few mistakes here and there. You are indeed right, Carter is his own man...

**Guest -**The next chapter will showcase Kendra's reaction. It's going to be fun to write, I'm excited.

**ConfusedsoamI -**Tanner reminds me too much of M's little secretary person :( you're right though, it is a good name.

**imaninja41 -**Hm, maybe and maybe not...

**The Dangerous one -**Well thank you!

A/N:

The last James-light chapter, I promise! The next chapter will return to our regularly scheduled father-daughter bonding (pun intended).

You guys are hella awesome for reviewing and reading this story. It started out as just a zanny idea. Thanks everyone!

VeilsofSleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: The Return**

Over the three days he had watched her, Q determined that Kendra Belfort (Not Bond as she had pointed out with a touch of vehemence) was not sentimental or outwardly emotional. Though he was quite sure she was poking into her father's death as she deemed it necessary (and coming up with next to nothing), she did not neglect her newly assigned duties as a junior level programmer for MI6.

She had no qualms about helping the same group, which as far as she knew, was responsible for her father's death. In fact, Kendra seemed to relish the fact that MI6 _needed_ her and refused to accept their offer until M delivered it personally. That was mostly out of spite for M's absence over the last few months, Q suspected. After her initial refusal, Kendra met M in front of the coffins of the six agents who had died in the explosion. M was nearing breaking point and Kendra had seen it, had watched as she glanced at the flags laid out over the wooden boxes of the dead.

Perhaps Kendra had a shred of sentimentality after all.

The reason he found himself thinking about her sentimentality was the mysterious phone call received a few minutes earlier from M.

"Ma'am?" he asked recognizing the number before he picked up the phone.

"_I need you to get a few things together Q_," she informed him crisply over the line, "_It seems 007 has returned_."

She had not bothered to elaborate and he had not bothered to ask, instead Q had sent Kendra home slightly early, much to her suspicion and with mild curiosity, he wondered how well Kendra could handle shock and above all betrayal.

* * *

_To me, the thing that is worse than death is betrayal. You see, I could conceive death, but I could not conceive betrayal_ -Malcolm X

* * *

"Is this my couch?"

Kendra did not believe in ghosts.

They did not exist upon any realm following normal physical laws.

But, the sight of her once dead father settled casually upon _her_ antique French couch had no other explanation.

With a knowing smile, James Bond surveyed her gritted jaw and clenched fists from his seat. It was the familiarity he felt that surprised him most. Carefully, he approached her, "You look a bit thin."

The surprise on her face was certainly something he missed over the last few months for two reasons. Firstly because he hardly ever got to see it (she was angered more easily then she was surprised) and secondly because James had not seen it, or her, in what felt like eons. He felt a certain amount of affection upon sight of her.

It brought a smile to his tired face.

In his hand was a half empty bottle of vodka which he had pilfered from the small mini fridge that sat in the corner of Kendra's hovel. He was dressed in jeans and an old jacket and had a fair bit of scruff about him. Very unlike the sophisticated MI6 agent he had been. More to the point, he looked truly weary, as though the literal weight of the world was upon his shoulders.

"You look a bit a dead." Kendra's words came stonily.

"Yes well..." he trailed off with a shrug, the smile not leaving his face. It was a smile mixed with amusement, belittlement and affection and if Kendra was in a probing enough mood she could have perhaps discerned a bit of guilt. It was infuriating, "Come, give us a kiss."

With that she hurled a nearby book at his head, "you bastard!"

Apparently sarcasm had been the wrong move on his part, but Bond hardly knew how else to greet her.

With a chuckle, he swatted away the large tome before it could impact and likely break his jaw. It seemed her aim was getting somewhat better, if nothing else.

"Where the hell have you been?" she snarled at him, jumping back as he took a step forward. The previously surprised look on her face was replaced with pure, venomous anger. Beyond the anger, Bond was surprised at the very real hurt on her face. Indeed his actions had been the highest order of betrayal, but still James had expected Kendra to be far more pragmatic about the whole affair.

It was clear that if he gave any other answer than 'traversing the river Stix in the Underworld' that she would likely shoot him. Especially if she found out he spent his time on a beach boozing and womanizing. Despite his furious parenting skills, despite the fact that he could never be the parent her mother was, despite the lies and the secrecy, Kendra had trusted him. In her tiny world, he was the only living thing she allowed herself to care about and then to grieve about.

But it was nothing but smoke.

This, earning her forgiveness, would prove to be a gargantuan task.

And he would have expected nothing else.

Still, James twinged at the thought that he had caused as much harm as the pain in her eyes indicated.

"I noticed that you have ammunition in your top drawer for a Sig Sauer, and I happen to know you prefer your Walther." Bond replied with an observation. He certainly had no qualms about snooping and Kendra noted it, "I take it you had friends here?"

Behind the easy words, there was a tone of protectiveness. Apparently, Bond was concerned about exactly what his daughter had been up too in his absence. His mind was jumping to the worst possible conclusions. There was an edge to his voice which Kendra thought was thoroughly unfair considering he had faked his own death. He had no possible justification for questioning her about her friends now.

"It belonged to someone I knew." The image of Carter appeared forcefully in her mind and for a second, a look of mild sadness appeared on Kendra's face and James hardly understood why, "Nothing for _you_ to concern yourself about."

The venom was back.

Still though, it felt like returning home, even if home was a tiny closet above a mediocre pizza place and part of James felt relief for the first time in months.

"So, what have you been up too?" James settled back on his couch, looking oddly comfortable, "School I assume?"

Kendra shot a wary glance at him and this time, she was being evasive. Sitting up a little straighter, Bond surveyed her with a look of intense questioning, "Kendra?"

"MI6."

Silence befell them and suddenly James realized the large misstep he had taken.

"What?!" Anger, hot and vivid boiled in his blood, at M for using his daughter in this cruel manner and at Kendra for allowing herself to be a pawn. His words were sharp, harsh and guttural and Bond hated that Kendra cringed as his voice grated out. With a forced breath, James sat down again.

There was no high moral ground for him to stand on.

She may have been working for the people responsible for his so called death, but he was the one who had died.

TO BE CONTINUED

* * *

SHOUT OUTS:

**BlueEyedBrigadier -**Nice to have you on board for this little experiment of mine! I'm so flattered, but honestly you're giving me way too much credit**. **I'm so glad you liked it and hope you continue to read on!

**Margaret -**Yeah, I'm hoping to keep the focus on Kendra and Bond without changing any of the main plot points of SkyFall. I'm simply adding to it, I suppose.

**maffresco -**AH I went back and reread a few chapters for inspiration and found myself cringing at all the idiotic mistakes in my work. Usually I proof read the chapters but I tend to do it late at night. Perhaps I'll up the ante as far as editing goes. I hope it didn't ruin your reading of the story too much!

**Imaninja41 -**I don't mean to be cryptic, but it just sort of happens! Yes Severine and Serena knew each other and also knew Silva. That's all I'm giving you.

**The Dangerous One -**Hm, it certainly seems that way.

**hgismylife379 -**Haha not a lot of mush in this chapters. That will come later ;)

**ConfusedsomaI -**Yay for Q! Yes, the explosion has already happened.

**LilyLunaPotter142 -**OMG don't apologize for not reviewing. I'm so glad that you're taking the time to read this fic, the fact that you or anyone else review it is just amazing. Thank you so much!

**fan-de-carlisle-cullen -**Maybe he survived and maybe he didn't ;)

**Eskyan -**YAY for Silva. I'm super excited to have him and Kendra actually meet face to face.

**A/N**

Guys my bad for not reviewing earlier! School and sickness basically took up most the last three weeks for me, but now I'm back! The next chapter should be up soon!

You all are an amazing group of readers!

VeilsofSleep


	15. Chapter 15

**_A great big huge apology to anyone who reviews/reads/follows this story. if you guys are still around I hope this chapter isn't too much of a let down, I know I don't really like it but I'm back and I am going to finish this story._**

* * *

_Every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other -_Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

* * *

Swivelling in her chair, Kendra watched as her father floated into the office with Tanner leading him. He surveyed the new headquarters coolly, but with none of the panache he used to have. It was obvious to everyone that James Bond was struggling.

For a brief second, his eyes caught sight of his daughter, sitting amongst the agents and desk jockies, looking very much like a child in her t-shirt and jeans. A child surrounded by wolves. But then he moved past her and made himself walk away. With everything else, he was spread thin, too thin to sit and duke it out with her.

"I take it you and your father are not on speaking terms?" Q watched the silent exchange with mild curiosity.

"No." Kendra watched Bond's retreating back as though it were a target.

* * *

_Let's start with some simple word associations_

The shrink seemed very run of the mill and only a little more competent then the one Kendra had been forced to visit months earlier. Like her, Bond had the same sceptical look on his face as the bespectacled man across from him glanced at a file.

_Gun_

**Shot**

That one was easy. James hardly even thought about it.

_Agent_

**Provocateur **

It was no secret that James fancied himself a suave man. With all the charm and grace of royalty, he had the confidence and strength of a soldier. It was the combination of the two that often drew people and at the same time drove them away.

_Woman _

**Provocatrix **

Hell hath no fury and Bond understood that well. His mind played Vesper's face briefly, very briefly and something inside him stung at the thought.

_Heart_

**Target**

The things closest were often the deadliest. The heart and the mind were the two closest organs that made up life. Anything close to the heart was a target. He pushed away the thought of Kendra.

_Bird_

**Sky**

His earliest memory was of a bright, blue and open sky with a single robin flying above him. Birds were delicate creatures but in the sky they flourished, in the sky they dwelt.

_M_

**Bitch**

Easy. That one was easy. Betrayal was a difficult thing to move past.

_Sunlight_

**Swim**

Kendra's mother swam in the mornings and never at night and James had never been able to figure out why. Not that he had spent all that much time with her.

_Moonlight_

**Dance**

One of the traits James had come to know about himself and others like him was that they loved to dance. Strutting across a ballroom in the moonlight provided a level of anonymity upon which he thrived, but left just enough light to gain attention. Gaining attention was not a thing spies were often allowed.

_Murder_

**Employment**

Basic to nature at this point James reckoned.

_Country_

**England**

If not his home then most certainly his daughter's.

_Skyfall_

James Bond blanched.

The name had not been uttered in years in his hearing. Years.

Memories, fleeting, burned the back of his retinas and washed through his mind in a myriad of colours. James clenched his jaw. It was a word that reminded of him of family and home. It reminded him of warm afternoons in the summer and hearty fires in the winter.

It reminded him of the name Bond that he loathed to carry.

It reminded him of all the names tied to his past and the only one that was tied to his future.

_Skyfall_

The doctor looked at him with a piercing gaze. This one was cleverer than most, clever enough to catch Bond unawares. Everyone watching could tell that Bond was considering beating this man to a pulp, they watched as his eyes, which were filled with pain, hardened like ice.

**Done.**

* * *

It was late. Later than even Q stayed at the office, but Kendra was still sitting behind her screen.

Junior Bond had not spoken with her father since last night. After staring at each other tensely for five minutes, Kendra fled the apartment and turned up at the office the next day. Evidently, M made James take a slew of physical and mental exams; just to be sure he wasn't completely round the bend (Kendra knew for a fact that he was).

Now she was camping out at her desk in MI6 headquarters for two reasons. Firstly, Bond was no doubt back at her apartment glaring at a wall and drinking and Kendra was in no mood to play nice, but to tired to fight. Secondly, Kendra had not been allowed to see her father's tests, but had been able to 'find' the videotaped sessions on an MI6 server.

It made her physically ill to see how far her father had fallen.

His physical prowess was severely damaged and his aim was worse then hers. In the months before he 'died', Kendra had come to rely entirely upon him for protection. In that sense she trusted him, trusted that he would be enough to keep the real world monsters at bay. Now Kendra wasn't so sure. Yet another reason why she was avoiding him.

It was the psychological examination that paid Kendra sit up a little straighter in her chair. Most of the answers did not particularly seem important, though Kendra was sure any person with a degree in such things would argue with her.

Skyfall. That seemed important. Important enough to make the poker face drop from Bond's face. To make him angry and unbalanced enough to not even bother putting on a façade of coolness. It was another mystery in the past of the Bonds'. In a family built of secrets, Kendra was starting to feel the weight of unanswered questions on her shoulders.

The man who killed her mother and kidnapped her remained well out of her grasp.

Severine was another mystery all to herself.

Why and how Bond ended up half dead in Turkey was a file that was so above her security clearance that even speaking about it would get her in deep water.

There was Carter, whose abrupt disappearance still left Kendra wondering.

And now Skyfall was added to that list.

Curiosity was a palpable thing and to Kendra it felt like an addiction. It was overly tempting to search a few more of MI6's files until she found Bond's, but she also remembered how well that had went last time. The security since her last break in of MI6's servers was greatly improved and likely M would punish her in some way should she choose to breach national security again. Grudgingly, Kendra shut down her computer and gathered her bag.

Once again, she opted to stay away from her apartment and found herself sitting in a twenty-four hour diner. Having written everything thing she knew and everything she didn't, Kendra stared at the side of the page labelled unknown. It had many more items on it and Kendra had very little notion of how to start searching for answers.

"Well this is a cheery place." Alec Trevelyan, looking supremely unconcerned and cool, slipped into her booth.

Stiffening, Kendra watched suspiciously. One hand curled around the Walther in her bag. Airily waving off the waitress that had strode over to take his order, 006 picked at her fries and surveyed her keenly, "You don't look overjoyed to see me."

Taking to her standard response, Kendra shrugged.

"You can let go of the Walther, I'm not here to harm you," Trevelyan rolled his eyes, "I just came to give you word about your friend. Evidently 'Carter' is currently in Shanghai mixed up with something not so pleasant."

"What?!" Kendra hissed.

"Yes and 007 will be leaving for Shanghai shortly as well," Alec gave a wry smile. Though Bond had yet to be assigned to Shanghai, Alec had heard the rumours through the grapevine. The man that shot him in Turkey was evidently pulling off a job there. And Carter could hardly be in town for a different party.

The pieces were coming together nicely and Alec quite liked to stay out of the details and watch the show.

Carter was the best lead Kendra had back to the people responsible for the current state of her life and it was no coincidence that Bond would be arriving in the same city as him in a few days time, "Why are you telling me this?"

"I lost them in Macau, but you somehow managed to get in and out alive," Alex explained with another self confident and clever smile, "You have a much better chance of learning something valuable then me."

Spy games, that was what Alec was up to. That's what James was always up to.

Kendra hardly had time to concern herself with it however. Dropping a tenner on the table, she grabbed her bag and flitted out of the restaurant, cell phone in hand. It was about time she took a more active role. If any of mysteries around her were to be solved, it would be done not behind a computer desk, but likely behind a gun. It was a lesson she should have learned long ago.

* * *

My sincerest apologies for the lateness of this chapters. Between finals and Belize I've just only slowed down and unfortunately this story was one of the many things that got left behind. I lost my muse for a while and found it almost impossible to type but I'm trying again because I do love this story and these characters. Hopefully this first chapter back is somewhat entertaining and mostly I hope everyone isn't too upset with me.

Leave me any sort of angry message you wish, I should have updated this a long time ago.

SHOUT OUTS:

Genghiscon2 -Here's more!

Thefoxandthegrapes -thank you so much for your kind words. I'm sorry about the procrastination! it often gets me too, but I'm glad you're enjoying this story! to be honest, I'm just so in love with the fact that this thing is getting reviews at all! Thanks again!

missy-history -Kendra is now 17 years old, a little too young for Q in my head. I don't think they will end up hooking up.

lisistrataantigona -I updated, please don't hurt me! I'm so sorry this took SO long. which Bond movie were you watching out of curiosity?

Lucky7Swimmer -well thank you. after reading one too many cliche OC stories I decided to make my own

Crimsonandchrome42 -oh you'll see. I have big plans for Kendra and Bond

Margaret -yes it was a while back :s

Platypus -yes Carter is starting to annoy me to. I'm going to flesh out his character a bit and make him more believable

fan-de-carlisle-cullen -oh don't worry, it gets worse for him

The Dangerous One -whereas I think a little bit of undignified behaviour is perfectly acceptable

Emotional Dalek -Well thank you! I'm glad you're liking it so far.

Selkar -That's one of the best compliments I could have gotten. Thank you

cba signin again -Gotta love cliffies. Bond will be in father mode soon. This chapter is me sort of getting back into the swing of things really

ConfusedSoAmI -AHH I'm so sorry for being away so long! I hope this chapter makes up for a little bit!

LilyLunaPotter142 -Bond will find out everything she's done while he was away and it ain't gonna pretty


	16. Chapter 16

**_Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing –_Mother Theresa**

"You seem restless."

Bond watched keenly for about half an hour before speaking. His daughter had returned home late, very late, and seemed to have some sort of determined fire in her eyes. It was one he recognized but didn't want to accept –she was on a mission. Something of importance had sprung her into action, some information she had received which he had not. Being in the spy game was hard enough when one had to keep track of his own secrets, but trying to pin down his daughter's would get tiring quickly.

"So do you." The reply was quick and flawless.

Bond himself had a flight to Shanghai in mere hours and had to admit that he if she seemed restless, he must have seemed equally flighty.

And they were at a stalemate. Once again.

James was finding that his daughter was as irritatingly stubborn as he was and was getting a good sense of what others must have thought of about him. It was when they exited the apartment at the same time that James had his suspicions concerned.

**Ah of course.**

"On your was to Shanghai I presume?" It wasn't hard to guess. No doubt Kendra was trying to force herself onto the mission so she could better learn why he had died and how he resurrected himself. She was much to stubborn to ask him directly or admit that she felt any sort of hurt at his loss, "You shouldn't take my death so personally."

"I'm not going for you!" the words were quick and low and aggressive but were also honest. No, Kendra was not going for his sake but for something, _or someone_, else. This surprised Bond mildly.

James hid the surprise well and covered up his inquisitiveness with a self assured smirk, "But you are going to Shanghai then."

She glared and grit her jaw, having been bested by her father again. It took him only seconds to weasel a location out of her. Now that he had confirmed she was heading to Shanghai he would no doubt hamper her ability to investigate Carter. Kendra was starting to get the feeling that she would make a terrible spy.

The flight was more annoying still. Kendra had booked a one way, economy ticket to Shanghai and before she could even check in at the airport her seat had been changed to first class. No doubt a ploy of her father's, who settled next to her on the plane looking impressed with himself. Just because she wished not to speak to him, did not mean he would let her isolate herself.

_Tap. _

With a measure of fondness James remembered bringing Kendra home on a flight like this.

_Tap._

The silence was annoying then.

_Tap._

And continued to be so.

James struggled to say something, anything really.

_Tap._

If he had been able to read her better, James might have recognized that she was doing the same.

_Tap._

Kendra did not really remember the flight from Prague to London. It seemed fuzzy in her head and now she understood that it was partially out of shock. The whole thing seemed so distant in her mind, but Kendra remembered feeling completely numb. It hadn't been so much that she didn't want to speak; it had been that she couldn't.

_Tape._

There was nothing stopping her from speaking now.

Kendra started rummaging through her bag. After a few minutes of searching, she placed something on his leg. Awkwardly Bond picked up the tiny ugly ceramic figurine. It was a miniature of the one in M's office. With a raised eyebrow, James brought it up to his face.

"M gave it to me."

_For my birthday. Which you __**missed**__._

The accusation was unsaid but duly noted. Shaking his head, James handed her the dog back.

They spoke no more.

Kendra fell asleep a few hours later and when she opened her eyes near landing time, she felt something in her hand. At some point while she slept, someone had placed a tiny blue Turkish good luck charm in her hand. It was supposed to ward away the evil eye and protect the holder. Drowsily, she glanced at Bond who was sitting ramrod straight with his eyes closed. He wasn't sleeping, just resting, preparing for the mission ahead.

Letting an unseen smile appear on her face, Kendra clasped the necklace around her collarbone, letting her hand touch the cool glass of the charm. Then she glanced back at her father and his tired and broken face, wondering if he needed more protection than she did.

* * *

Father and daughter stood in front of the fluorescent exit sign.

"This is where we part ways." Like it or not, Bond had a job to do, a mystery to unravel and a woman to save. Kendra may have considered herself invincible, but Bond knew better and there was no way he would let her follow him.

Judging by the look on her face, Kendra was doubting her decision of coming to Shanghai at all, let alone leaving Bond alone now that she was here, "Yes."

Wrapping an arm around her, Bond pulled close. It was awkward, but to those around them it would look like a hug. A strange, awkward hug in which James looked uncomfortable and Kendra looked shocked. In reality, Bond slipped a small calibre gun into the pocket of her coat. Unlike him, Kendra did not know the tips and tricks of sneaking guns across borders and Bond was not about to let her go gallivanting off without at least some protection. Once she felt the weight, she understood and clenched her fist around the gun in her pocket.

With a stern but encouraging nod, Bond swept off into the night.

_I'll be fine._ That was what he meant.

Once he was out of sight, Kendra hitched her bag on her shoulder and started down the street.

As she passed intersection upon intersection, it occurred to Kendra that she did not know exactly know where to go.

Her best lead had been her father, who had just vanished into Shanghai's vast crowd.

She cursed and stopped in the middle of the intersection.

This was legitimately the least intelligent thing she had ever done. Here Kendra was, in a strange city, without a single clue of where she was or what she was doing. Options there were few. Calling James was out of the question; he would likely just hang up upon understanding his daughter's idiocy. It wasn't as though Kendra was in trouble. Same with Alec. That left Q, but calling him would not help her and in fact, he would likely tattle tale to M and would be the end of her little mission.

"Looking for me?"

With a shit eating grin on his face, Carter stood at the end of the street.

* * *

SHOUT OUTS:

JFJD -Thanks so much!

maffresco -Yep!

ConfusedsoAmI -Thank you for reviewing! I always love hearing from you!

Esykan -Welcome back is appropriate :p

Lilly McMissile -OMG thank you! I'm glad you liked it!

LilyLunaPotter142 -haha yes she is going to Shanghai...

missy-history -Thanks!

imaninja41 -I don't see why both can't happen...

fan-de-carlisle-cullen -they do!

A/N:

Thanks for waiting around erryone! I know chapter is a bit short, but enjoy!

Veil out.


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